My Best Mistake
by Exes and Ohs. 2
Summary: JD comes to terms with the life changing news that Kim is pregnant. Why is it that things never, ever go the way they should?
1. Chapter 1

Okay..first Scrubs fic..I don't even know how this is going to turn out. I downloaded season 5 and I watched all the episodes over the weekend, and now I'm going crazy waiting for the next season. Takes place after Season 5.

I don't remember if this scene took place in Kim's apartment, or in a room in the hospital (such as the on-call room), and I'll change this first part of the story accordingly when I watch that episode again.

* * *

** J.D's POV**

What did she say?

"I'm sorry..what did you say?"

I really didn't need her to repeat herself. I knew what she said. But my gut was twisted. I'd never, ever, ever had a situation like this occur. Loads of guys have had 'scares'. Not me. Not John Dorian. Was she playing with me?

She's just staring at me with scared eyes. I can't look away from her stare. I'm gripping the flowers, standing in the doorway, unable to move. It's been 2 1/2 weeks. Quick, think. What has been keeping you away from her for 2 1/2 weeks? No, nothing, she's been _avoiding you_ . Could this be a good sign for me? Does this mean that I'm off the hook? Suddenly, my gut was untwisting itself. I can hear her say, _I'm pregnant with another man's baby, I'm sorry._

"I'm pregnant, JD," she said quietly.

What should I say? What should I do? Should I comfort her? Should I give her time to herself? Fuck, I need time to myself. She looks so scared. Would it be totally wrong of me to ask if it's mine? What if it is and I sound like an asshole? What if it isn't and she gets pissed anyway? Shit, shit, shit.

No. She said that she wanted to be with me. She took her ring off _**for me**_ . It was mine. Unless she lied to me.

But looking in her eyes, I know what the truth is. I know what the answer is. She didn't lie. She's not seeing anyone else.

"Come here," I finally said, setting the flowers down on the nearest piece of furniture (coffee table), and I opened my arms to her. There was nothing else I could say or do, was there? I could yell. I could scream. I could cry. I want to cry. My heart is in my throat. My stomach is at my feet. I'm shaking. I've known her not even a month. Oh, Christ, what happened? I've always been careful. Was I not careful? I can't remember, even. I don't know. It was so perfect.

Stop thinking.

Kim shook her head at me, silently turning my hug down. But now I want that hug.

"I know you aren't ready, and I don't think I am either, " she said after an eternity of silence. "I don't know what to do, JD. I -" her voice cracked, and a single tear fell from her right eye. It broke my heart. She's trying to be strong.

I stepped forward and enveloped her in my arms, despite the fact that for a moment, she struggled. I needed this, and I think she did too. And the moment I pulled her to my chest, and put my hand on the back of her head, sobs starting racking her body and poured out of her mouth. I did my best to comfort her. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I want to be held, and I want to cry. But why, exactly? Is it because I hardly know Kim, and she's pregnant with my child? Or is it because I don't want it? Or do I want it? What the hell is wrong with me? What does she want? Do I want her to do what she wants to do? Or do I want some kind of say in what happens from here on out?

I didn't know until we were sitting on her couch a moment later, with her curled up against me, still crying, that I was silently crying. I couldn't breathe. Help me, God! I need space, I need air, and I need to get out of here.

"JD, what are we going to do?" Kim finally asked, her voice so quiet I had to strain to hear her.

I breathed in deeply, exhaled, closed my eyes, and said, "I don't know, Kim. How positive are you?" Shit, did that sound assholish? Wait, why do I care? I have every right to know, don't I?

"I had a blood test. I took like, four home tests, all positive. I'm pregnant."

"What do you want to do?" I asked, looking down at the top of her head, which was buried in my chest. I rubbed her arm awkwardly. Was it too soon to discuss this? Should we just sit in silence? I can't sit in silence, there's too much running through my head. How much is this going to cost? Am I going to be able to afford it? Can I afford to build on my piece of land? Would I even be a good father? What would my mom say? Or Dan? Or Elliot? Or anybody? How could I raise this baby knowing it was a mistake?

Would it be a boy or a girl?

Chills ran through my body at the last question. Oh, no no no. Not yet. Please, please don't think about that yet.

More tears fell from my eyes, and I struggled to control myself.

"I don't know what I want to do. I've never been in this position. I've thought about kids, but I've never actually _thought_ about it, you know what I mean? I always wondered what it'd be like to be a mom, but now that it's staring me in the face, I'm thinking of the costs, the time, the energy, the .. home life.." she trailed off. She knew as well as I did that this was way too much for us. We weren't even officially a couple. We hardly knew each other. Fuck.

"I..I support you in whatever you want to do, Kim..if you want to keep it, we'll sit down, we'll figure it all out.." I managed to say all this without completely falling apart. A sob escaped my throat. But I'm not a 15 year old boy, facing this situation. I'm almost 32 years old. Now is as good a time as any to have a kid, right?

I felt a few weeks ago that Kim could be the one. I don't want to think that she's 'the one' because she's carrying my child. Can something like this ruin our relationship before it ever had a chance to blossom? Or can it make our relationship even better?

"Thank you, JD. But this is a mutual decision. And it doesn't have to be made right now, but soon.."

I sighed and awkwardly hugged her from our position on the couch. I kissed the top of her head lightly. "Then can we talk about this a little later?" I knew I shouldn't have asked it. I needed to. What I want to do is get the fuck out of here right now and go to my bed and cry and be alone.

And then Kim said something that made my heart race and made me grateful that she was the one I was in this position with. If any other woman was sitting on this couch, in my arms, talking about being pregnant, I think I'd be screwed. If Elliot were here instead of Kim..oh man. I don't know what would happen.

"You can go home. I know you need to think about this. And I know you need to be alone. I think I do too."

I nodded, and slowly pushed her off of me. She looked up at me, and I couldn't help but crack the smallest of smiles. My eyes drifted to her stomach, and again I got chills. I raised my left hand, which was shaking uncontrollably, and put my hand on her belly. She placed her right hand on top of mine, then leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth.

And with that, I stood up and left her apartment. I needed someone to talk to. I didn't know who just yet.

* * *

I know this is somewhat short. It's my introductory chapter. I'm still debating what kind of fic this will be. Definitely angsty. And I'm partial to the "suicidal!JD" fics. I won't do JD/Cox slash, at least not in this fic. Eh. Write me some reviews guys, and I'll post a new chapter tomorrow. Remember, this is my first Scrubs fic ) 


	2. Chapter 2

Two reviews! Hoorah. It's better than none. But I'm a review whore. I loooove getting reviews. I promise this story won't be bad. I'm rusty in my writing (if you look at the last time I even updated one of my stories, it's been over 3 years.), but I'm not THAT bad, am I?

I think this story will remain in JD's POV. I hate alternating back and forth between characters. I don't even like it when the show does that.

Anywho, I'll TRY to keep this is in character as I possibly can. But remember: it's my first Scrubs fic. I'm not into the writing-JD-flashbacks/daydream thing, and I'm not very good at sarcastic!Cox. I'll try though.

* * *

I already had three appletinis, three beers, and a shot of vodka by the time someone I recognized entered the bar. I didn't notice him until he sat down beside me, and ordered a scotch. I don't know how long I'd been in the bar, brooding and contemplating and just thinking. I'm sorry to say, the thought of suicide crossed my mind twice; doctor or not, I'm not invincible, I'm not immune to depression, I'm not perfect.

Anyway, all I know is that I drank more than I have in some time, and I might be plastered. I wasn't even trying to nurse my fourth beer; the bartender gave it to me only mere minutes before and it was almost gone.

"How's it going, newbie," Dr. Cox said. It wasn't really a question. I've learned that if he asks me a question, it's best not to delve into the answer. He won't talk to you if YOU want to talk; he'll only talk to you if he wants to talk. He sipped at his cup of scotch. "I don't know what the hell is going to happen in the next few years of my life. Jordan being pregnant again? What the hell?" he somewhat growled into his cup, tossed his head back, and finished his scotch. He ordered another one. "Part of me still thinks she cheated on me, even though she wouldn't lie about that. I want to believe it's not mine. But would it change anything, newbie? No. I'm ashamed to say that I love the slag. I mean, hell, I didn't know Jack was mine until he was how old? I stayed with her the entire pregnancy, sure that it wasn't mine, but I was there for her. Ah, what the hell, I'm staying," he muttered, drinking half of his second glass. He growled again.

There was silence between the two of us. I suddenly didn't give a shit about his life or his problems right now. Sure, he can whine and moan and complain, I'll listen, but if he expects me to actually care or give him advice, he's got another thing coming. I felt his eyes on me for a moment, and it made me feel .. guilty? Somehow, his penetrating stare made me feel like he knew everything that was happening in my life.

I ordered two shots of vodka, and pushed one in front of him. At the same time, we threw them back, and forcefully hit the shot glasses on the bar.

"A second round," I said to the bartender. Dr. Cox raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't say a word. Why should he? He was getting free shots. Condescending asshole.

We tossed back the second round.

"One more," I said to the good man with the bottle. He also raised an eyebrow at me, but poured away. Why should HE say a word? He was getting my money.

Dr. Cox and I sat in silence, with the sounds of laughing and music all around us. We stared at our shot glasses for a minute before we tossed back the third shot. When did the drink stop burning my throat? Come to think of it, I don't remember it burning at all. And I hate hard liquor.

"You're drinking quite a lot," Dr. Cox commented after a few more minutes of silence. He ordered himself a beer. Then, after a moment's hesitation, ordered an appletini for me. "What's on your mind there, JD?"

Crap. He called me JD. But my mind's too foggy right now to know why that's a bad thing. Or is it? I shook my head, and my vision blurred slightly. All I did was laugh.

"I think I fucked up, " I said with another laugh. Why was it funny? Only minutes ago I was depressed, and I wanted to cry. Now I'm laughing. Dammit, JD, get a hold of yourself!

Dr. Cox just grunted in reply. He took a swig of his beer, then turned to me, as if he expected me to continue. I was still chuckling, but for some reason, I didn't want to elaborate. Usually, when the two of us are together, I make stupid, sometimes extremely-gay comments, and I try to get him to open up to me. And then I try to drag him into my personal life. But not tonight.

"Well, Marsha, if you think you fucked up, you probably did. Now, I'm not going to go about asking what you did, because I personally don't care -"

The words left my mouth without my brain even knowing, interrupting the beginning to what sounded like a long rant. "I got someone pregnant and I hardly know her."

I downed my appletini in a second after I blurted it out. Oh, dammit. I didn't want to tell him. I wanted to talk to Turk, if anyone. Why was I telling Dr. Cox? I could trust him not to say anything to anyone else about it, but it wouldn't stop him from prying or making fun of me.

Dr. Cox, as if he read my mind, stood from his bar stool and began applauding me. "Penelope, this has got to be the biggest mistake you've ever made. I can't stop myself from smiling."

I ordered a double shot of vodka, downed it, and stood from my bar stool. "You know, Perry, " I began to say, but my head started spinning and I could vaguely hear the words slurring as they came out of my mouth. Dr. Cox just grinned his stupid grin, and crossed his arms, as if inviting me to say what I wanted. And I started to laugh. "I don't care what you think. Yeah, for once, I don't care."

I took a step towards the door, but the bartender yelled out, "hey, wait a second!"

"Don't worry about it, " Dr. Cox said to the bartender, and I continued to stumble to the door. I pushed the door open into the cold night, and stepped into the parking lot. I started to stumble towards my bike, but someone grabbed my arm and stopped me.

I started to laugh again. Why do I keep laughing? This isn't funny. Someone is going to mug me, I know it. What the hell time is it, anyway?

"Now, newbie, judging by how much I just paid for your tab, you've had entirely too much to drink to get behind the wheel. Now, I can either sit here with you while you call one of your girlfriends to come and get you, or you can come with me and I'll take you home."

"Dr. Cox, " I slurred, turning to face him. "I'm entirely capable of getting myself home, if you don't mind." I yanked my arm from his grasp indignintly. "I'm going to be a father, afterall."

Once I said those words out loud, it hit me. Kim is pregnant with my child, and now, for the rest of my life, I will have someone to look over. I've seen people break down when they realize these things. Hell, even though Turk and Carla planned their pregnancy, once it was real to them, they spent some nights crying and freaking out over what was to come. It's natural to feel this way. It's a huge change. And no wonder Dr. Cox has been freaking out over his situation. He wasn't even supposed to _be_ in this situation.

Minutes later, I found myself in the passenger seat in Dr. Cox's porsche. I can't remember getting in the car. In fact, just a second ago I was standing next to my bike. And I'm crying. Why the hell am I crying? And why isn't Dr. Cox getting mad at me and calling me a girl?

"Look, stop your crying, " Dr. Cox finally said. "It's NOT the end of the world. I know it may seem that way, and God knows that these next few days and months and, hell, years, are going to scare the shit out of you. But it is a great experience. I wouldn't trade anything for the time I've had with Jack. I know I'll feel the same way about this next child. And JD, of all the people I know, you are definitely the most capable person. So stop crying, I don't want to hear it."

This is why I didn't want to talk to Dr. Cox. I didn't want him to tell me these things. I want someone to yell at me, tell me I'm stupid for what I've done. Not to encourage this situation. I don't even know if I want to BE in this situation.

I rested my head against the cool glass window and closed my eyes. I felt awful, all of the sudden. Not pukey awful. I hated myself. I've ruined more than one persons life. I've done something irreversible. Sure, there's abortion, but what's done is done, and it can't be erased from my memory, nor Kim's. I've finally accomplished something I always wanted to avoid; I've screwed someone's life up so bad that I won't ever be forgiven.

* * *

I woke up on the floor of my bedroom, to the sound of my alarm. It was 6 AM. What time did I get home last night? Ugh, and my head hurt worse than ever before. In fact, what the hell happened last night? I don't even remember coming home. I remember the drive. I remember Dr. Cox. Did he take me straight home? Dammit, I wish my head would stop pounding.

I got off the floor and shut off my alarm clock. I walked to my dresser and pulled out an undershirt and clean boxers. My eyes hurt and so did my stomach. My mouth tastes like vomit.

Once I got into the bathroom, I turned on the shower. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, then looked into the mirror. I didn't _look _any different. But I _feel _ten years older. I feel somewhat empty inside. I'm a dad. Oh, dammit. Stop thinking.

I reached up to open the medicine cabinet, and froze. My eyes took in what I saw, and I racked my brain, but couldn't remember what happened. I lowered my arm and raised my left hand to the cuts on my right arm. Three very straight, very clean cuts. Did I do this? I don't remember. Why did I do this? I touched the wounds, and winced when it began to sting. Of course I did this, Dr. Cox wouldn't have, Elliot wouldn't have. But, why..? This isn't me.

I stripped myself of the clothes I wore the night before and got into the shower. I grabbed the bar of soap and began washing my cuts and my body, scrubbing the scent of alcohol off my body. Scrubbing off the guilt and shame. I needed to call Kim, and we needed to sit down and talk this out. I don't know what the hell I wanted to do, but I couldn't avoid this situation, and the more I dwelled on it, the worse it was going to be.

* * *

At the hospital, I easily avoided Turk, Carla, Elliot, and even Dr. Cox, for a good two hours. I was busy searching for Kim, in between treating my patients. I hadn't heard her paged once. I wonder if she's even here today.

"Hey! There you are!" I heard from behind me, as I was standing in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open so I could go to the first floor and grab a cup of cafeteria coffee. I turned just as the door opened to see Turk, running down the hall, waving frantically. I stepped into the elevator, pushed the 'close door' button, and avoided looking at him as the door shut. Turk's my best friend, but right now, I couldn't deal with his cheerfullness. I couldn't deal with _him_.

In the cafeteria, I found who I was looking for. Sitting in the far corner of the room, pushing food around on her plate with a cup of coffee in front of her, was Kim. My heart jumped into my throat. I got butterflies in my stomach. She was beautiful. And she looked so .. _sad_. I glanced around the room, and saw a very angry looking Dr. Cox, with his arms folded, glaring at Jordan across from him. Good. He hasn't seen me. Quickly, I grabbed a cup of coffee, scooted around Dr. Cox and Jordan (yes! They didn't catch me!) and tentively approached Kim's table.

She looked up when she heard someone walk over, and gave me a smile. And with that one smile, that one gesture, my entire mood lifted. Her smile and eyes said everything was going to be okay. I sat down across from her, and stared hard at my cup of coffee.

"I think I'm ready for this, " I said to her, and my heart started beating uncontrollably. Blood rushed in my ears, and I think I might've started blushing. I swallowed, hard. "I thought a lot about this last night. No matter what you finally decide to do, I am here for you, 100."

I slowly raised my eyes to meet hers. She had tears in her eyes, but her smile didn't falter. "I was thinking, too. I'm not going to force anything on you. I mean, yeah, I expect you to be around for your child, but in no way am I your responsibility. I think I want to keep it, JD. I don't know if I could go through with an abortion, or go through with adoption, not at my age. And financially, I can do this. I'm ready for this."

My heart raced even faster. No longer was I depressed, or sad, or scared. In fact, I felt extremely optimistic. "_We_ can do this," I corrected her, a smile finally forming on my face. "I'm ready, too, Kim. I mean, I'm sorry for what it's worth -"

"No, don't apologize. I don't blame you. And if you want to put a blame on someone, it's _both _of our faults."

I felt so relieved. And now for the big questions, "how far along are you, and can I tell Turk?"

Kim laughed, and it sounded so good to hear. I just wanted to wrap her up and hold her. It made me so happy to hear her laugh, to see her smile. She was so strong. Stronger than me, anyway.

"I'm only a few weeks pregnant, JD. Not even a month. And I'm not your mommy; you can tell whoever you want, whenever you want."

"Good," I leaned across the table, and surprisingly, although I don't know why it surprised me, Kim met me halfway and kissed me right on the lips. "I already accidentally told Dr. Cox. But in my defense, I was drunk."

Kim laughed again and shook her head. She then picked up her cup of coffee and sipped from it. I opened my mouth, but she cut me off before I could say anything. "No, I'm not going to stop drinking coffee. I can drink one or two cups a day if I feel like it. It just so happens that today, I feel like it."

Why was she so calm about this? Inside, even though I was relieved and happy, I still had a bad feeling in my gut. I still was scared. I didn't know what to expect. But for some reason, I didn't see this turning out very well in the end. Why would I think something so horrible? No, everything was going to be fine, I'm just scared, now that I'm starting to want this.

I stood up with Kim, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to me. I wrapped her up in a hug, and breathed in her scent. I knew I could love this woman. She was beautiful, intelligent, funny, relaxed, and now, the mother of my child. I pulled back from her, and kissed her softly, and we pulled apart. She grabbed my hand, and we began to leave the caf, each carrying our cups of coffee. I caught Dr. Cox's eye on the way out, and Jordan's as well. They both looked at us with such an odd combination of excitement, happiness, and disbelief. Did Dr. Cox tell Jordan? I don't see why he wouldn't. I think he tells her everything, even if he would deny it if asked. I smiled at the two, raised my cup of coffee to them in a half salute kind of thing, and exited the cafeteria with my woman's hand in mine.

* * *

End chapter 2. I like this story so much, that if I keep getting demand for it, I'll update every single day!

To my reviewers:

**Spiny Norma**: Angsty!JD is awesome. Actually, Angsty!any character in any show/book/movie is pretty good. But JD is such a good character to screw with, because he's so..emo sometimes. Would that even be the right word to describe him? Lol, thanks for the review.

**Pinked-Charmed-One**: I think subconsciously, without me noticing, I started writing this story with ideas I got while reading yours. I adored your story! It made me so sad, partly because I lost a child so late in pregnancy as well, and your story totally hit home with me. It was really good ) I'm gonna keep reading some of your other stories - and I see some HP fic on there. All of my previous fanfic stories are HP (I haven't updated/written in over 3 years on those, though). I'll probably read some of those, as well, get back into the HP fanfic thing again.


	3. Chapter 3

I forgot to do this with the other 2 chapters...

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING.

* * *

"What happened last night?" I found myself asking Dr. Cox shortly before my shift ended. All day, the throbbing from the cuts on my arm reminded me that I _still _can't remember what the hell happened. I needed to know, because if Kim saw it, I don't know what she'd think of me. Figures, I've never, ever been the suicidal cutter type. Yet now that it's very important that I _not _be that person (for my child, for Kim, and I suppose for me as well), I find cuts on my body. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Melissa, I'm not in the mood to talk about it," Dr. Cox said, flipping through pages attached on a clipboard, his forehead very wrinkled in disgust and concentration. "Now is definitely not the time to talk about what you did. I don't have time. Just get out of here."

My heart raced. So he was there when it happened. Did **he** do it? I sure as hell hope not. Not like I can do anything about it if he did. Ha, me, kick his ass?

My pager went off, and I quickly looked down at it. The message made my gut twist, and I began running toward the elevator.

* * *

"She's not term, " Turk said in a panic. "She's only 35 weeks."

"Calm down, " I said, and I wanted to add on, _Brown Bear_, but I don't think now was the time. Carla as in preterm labor. I sat Turk down in a chair just outside Carla's room, where doctors and nurses were monitoring her, and put my right arm around his shoulders. "What happened?"

"We were at lunch! That was it! We were eating, and then out of nowhere she doubled over, and I knew something was wrong. JD, what happens if this baby is born now? I thought I had at least 4 or 5 more weeks. I'm not ready for this, not yet. And this baby is premature; what happens then?"

"She's got great doctors looking after her, Turk. If this baby is born now, it's in great hands. Don't you worry, okay? And if the baby is born today or tomorrow or five weeks from now, I will be here to help you out in any way you need." I told him, patting him on the back. What was I supposed to say? That the odds of them stopping her labor now, when she was this close to her due date, were slim to none?

Even though I just found out yesterday that Kim was pregnant, my mind has been running through all kinds of things that are in my future: diapers, bottles, ballet or sports, potty training, graduations, first day of school, first words, first steps, first date, first..well, everything. Sitting here with Turk, as he waited for his wife's doctors to tell them what was going to happen, I suddenly felt for the guy. Not like I wouldn't have if I wasn't going to be a father. It was just..different, now. And I could only imagine how he felt right now.

"Dr. Turk?" A nurse asked, sticking her head out the door. "You can come in."

I stayed out in the hallway, but gave Turk a thumbs up and a smile to reassure him before he went into the room. I don't know what I'm going to do; should I sit and wait?

My pager went off again. I looked down at the message, and sighed.

"Turk, " I stuck my head into the room real quick, and apologized for interrupting the discussion that was going on, "I'll be in the lounge."

* * *

When I walked into the lounge, I saw Elliot and Dr. Cox sitting at the table, both looking pissed at each other. Elliot saw me, shot a glare at Dr. Cox, and left the room. I took over her vacated chair and calmly clasped my hands together on top of the table.

"Look, JD, " Dr. Cox said, and then sighed. It was going to be one of _those _conversations. He said my name. For some reason, I hate it when he says my name. "Last night you scared me. I admit it. And _no_, before you get any ideas, Jessica, it's _not _because I care for you in any homoerotic or, hell, friendly way. It's because as a doctor, I'm supposed to be aware of what happens to people that are in my care. You were in my car, drunk and sobbing like a little girl, thus you were in my care. And I know you're scared, and I know that this is a huge deal for you, and a big change, but _you need to snap out of it_. Last night I brought you home and had to all but carry you to your apartment - which, by the way, _I will never, ever, ever do again_ - only to watch you fall faster and faster downhill. You puked in the bathroom, and the moment I turned my back on you to leave, you cut your arm."

At this point, I was staring hard at the table and I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. No, I didn't want to hear this. I know I asked, but I didn't think he'd really tell me. And without warning, Dr. Cox reached across the table, grabbed my wrist, and pulled the sleeve up my arm. He sneered at the cuts.

"You're going to be a father, newbie, and I'm telling you right now. If I ever, _ever _see anything like this again, or even _suspect _that you're doing something this stupid, I'm going straight to the medical board, and I will make sure that you get help, even if that means being out of work."

Dr. Cox pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. He put his hands on his head, rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath. How dare he say what he just said to me? I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't crazy. I don't even remember what happened last night!

"You drink like a fish, " I blurted out before I could stop. Dr. Cox spun around and narrowed his eyes at me. "Yeah, and you're going to have _another _kid. You're a danger to yourself and your pregnant ex wife AND your son."

I shouldn't have said that, and I realized that the moment the words were completely out of my mouth. Dammit, Dorian. Keep your mouth shut, will you? Dr. Cox was so angry, his face was red, he couldn't even speak. I waited for it, for the harsh words, the physical blow, but strangely, it never came.

Instead, Dr. Cox said this: "I've got things I need to work on, too, Newbie."

And then he stormed out of the room, throwing over a trashcan on the way out. I let out a sigh of relief, then stood up from the table. I needed someone to talk to, and since Turk and Carla were busy, there was only one person I could confide in.

* * *

I walked into my apartment with a four pack of fruit punch flavored alcohol, and a large supreme pizza. I set the food and drink on the coffee table, then walked over to Elliot's bedroom door, and knocked. I waited a moment for her to stumble to her door and open it. She looked like she'd been crying.

"I got pizza and flavored beer, come on, " I said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the couch. "I don't care what you say, you're going to sit down, and we're going to talk, because I've got so much I need to tell you."

"JD, " she pulled her arm away from my hand. "I'm really upset. Keith completely blew me off tonight, and then Dr. Cox yelled at me for treating a patient in a way that he didn't agree with, despite the fact that it was _my _patient, and _my _patient is doing just fine on _my _treatment."

I pushed her onto the couch, and handed her a drink. She opened it and threw the cap onto the table. "Not to mention Turk and Carla's problems. Today is just a really crappy day. All I want is to soak in my bath."

"Well, " I said, opening a bottle of beer and taking a sip, "I think I've got news that'll cheer you up."

Elliot folded her arms and just stared at me, expectantly. Would she be excited? Or would she get pissed? She was my ex girlfrend, and we slept together many times in the past, but she was still my best friend. And she loves babies. Would she yell at me for being irresponsible? Why did I feel that people would punish me, anyway? I'm 31 years old! I'm an adult.

"I'm going to be a father, " I said. How many times have I said that aloud, now? It makes my insides feel funny when I say it. I feel giddy and scared and I even think I'm going to throw up or pass out. Instead, I sat down on the couch next to Elliot, and as a distraction for myself, I grabbed a piece of pizza.

"Oh, my God, JD!" Elliot squealed, choking on some of her drink. "Are you serious!? Is it Kim?!" I nodded, and grunted as Elliot threw her body onto mine and hugged me tight. "I can't believe it! Are you sure? When is she due? Do you have names picked out already? Who else knows? JD, you're going to be a daddy! Oh my God!"

I pushed Elliot off of me and sucked in a breath of air. "I don't know when she's due. I just found out yesterday. And _no _we don't have names picked out already." Although I am partial to the name Scorponok.

"Are you scared?" She asked, her eyes wide with excitement. She grabbed a piece of pizza and crossed her legs on the couch.

"Yes."

"Who else did you tell?"

"You and Dr. Cox. And I guess Jordan knows, now. But other than that, it's just you three."

"Well, I just want you to know, JD, that if you need anything, I'm here! I just won't babysit for you. I don't like babysitting little kids. They freak me out when they cry." She got a distant look on her face, as if she were remembering a memory. Then she snapped back to reality. "Is Kim okay?"

"As far as I know she is." I really didn't talk to her after this morning, because I felt nervous around her. I didn't really know how to act, or what to say. Of course, the moment she's in front of me, I forget my fears and I'm happy with her.

"Do you love her?" Elliot finished her piece of pizza, then finished off her first flavored beer.

I shook my head. "I don't think I do. But I have a really, really good feeling about this, Elliot."

Elliot squealed again and hugged me a second time. "I'm so excited for you. Forget how lousy I felt a minute ago. You've got to be so excited, too! Are you?"

"More scared than anything else."

"We must celebrate this. Call Turk and Carla.." Elliot trailed off, and we sat in silence for a minute before she broke it again. "They don't know yet? Shouldn't you tell Turk? I mean, he's your best friend."

"He's at the hospital with Carla, and I know that at least tonight, he isn't going to want to party. She might be giving birth to their child in the next day or two, and I don't want to tell them my news while they're praying their baby lives."

And as if on cue, my cell phone rang, and I answered it quickly. It was Turk.

"Good news, JD! They've stopped her labor! She's staying in the hospital tonight to be monitored, and they gave her a shot of steroids, to mature the baby's lungs in case he's born early, but everything looks good! What do you say to a little celebration?" Turk asked, laughing and I could tell he was smiling. Elliot was staring at me with big eyes, curious about what he had to say.

"Yeah, come on over, man! We might need some more drinks -"

Someone knocked on the door.

"Way ahead of you buddy!" Turk yelled through the door. Elliot jumped up and I hung up the phone, and she opened the door. She gave Turk a big hug. "Everything's good, Elliot! How are you guys tonight? And what's this, " he waved his hand toward the pizza and opened bottles of flavored beer. "You're starting without me?"

"JD's going to be a dad," Elliot blurted out, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet. Turk's jaw dropped, his eyes got wide, and he looked between her and me in shock. "NO not me, Turk!"

There goes _my_ moment to tell _my _best friend about _my_ good news. Turk was all smiles, though, and he ran across the room and tackled me to the floor. "JD THIS IS AWESOME! OUR KIDS ARE GOING TO GROW UP TOGETHER!"

"Just like we always wanted!" I managed to say from underneath his body.

Maybe this dad experience wasn't such a bad thing. Hell, my friends seemed excited enough about it.

But I couldn't shake the bad feeling in my gut, or the nagging at the back of my head.

* * *

To all my reviewers, THANK YOU!

Meghanthepagan: Damn fruit flies in champagne glasses, ruining good glasses of drink. Lol. It really helps that I've got experience in what I'm writing about (from pregnancy to depression to angstyness). This is my form of therapy, in a way. Some of what I'm writing about (and will write about in upcoming chapters) are things I've experienced and gone through. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I like to write it.

abs: I hope you keep reading! I'll keep updating daily if I keep getting such positive responses.

BeHiNdThEsHaDoWs45: I loved your review! Hah! Thank you. I checked out your profile, and will eventually get into reading your HP stuff (All of my other stories are HP and I think they might all be slash, I don't remember..). Thank you!

Until tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Scrubs or anything associated with Scrubs.

* * *

I'd like to say nothing has been going on the past 4 weeks, but I'd be lying. Carla and Turk had their baby - a little girl named Jasmine Turk-Espinosa. She was born yesterday, in fact, and I have yet to see the baby because I've been swamped with work. Plus, I'm trying to give Turk and Carla their space and their time to bond.

Kim is now 7 weeks pregnant. We're going in a little while for the first ultrasound (normally, women don't go until their 12 weeks or more for their first, but the benefits rock because we're both doctors). But honestly, the feeling in my gut is so bad right now, I can't eat or drink anything because I know I'll throw up. There's a 1 in 5 chance that the baby won't have a heartbeat, and will be miscarried. I'm so scared.

Dr. Cox and Jordan seem to be doing pretty well. Jordan is moodier than ever. She's 10 weeks (or more?) pregnant. I think I'm getting this pregnancy thing right. Carla gave her baby books to Kim, and whenever I have a chance, I sit down and read them with her. 40 weeks of pregnancy, three trimesters, and Jordan and Kim are both in their first. Jordan's always sick, too; throwing up, getting extreme motion sickness. She's even been hospitalized once already for dehydration because her morning sickness was so bad she couldn't keep even water down.

Kim was fantastic. She always had a smile on her face. She zoom zoom-ed in and out of every room and found ways to make even the most miserable patients happy. She didn't get sick or nauseas, nor was she tired or _anything_. She was **perfect**. And I found myself falling in love with this woman. She had no annoying habits, she always made my stomach flutter, and she was honest. That was the best thing about her.

I could see myself with her for the rest of my life.

And just when I thought nothing could ruin my mood, my pager went off: a patient was coding.

* * *

I stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the sheet that covered Mr. Riley's body. He was only 35 years old, and he died from a heart attack. I did the best I could - I know that, the entire staff knows that. I felt sorry for him, I wanted to cry for him, but what made it worse was telling his wife, who held her all but newborn child, that her husband passed away. That baby would grow up without a father. The mother would go the rest of her life wondering 'what if' and struggling to make ends meet without her husband.

Dr. Cox was standing behind me, blocking the doorway, and I knew he was without turning around. I could sense his presence. He and I have hardly talked at all the past 4 weeks. I mean, we discuss patients, and when one of us is having a very, very obvious bad day (last week, Dr. Cox lost 4 patients on his shift, and he was completely broken over it for two or three days), we talk to each other about how "being a doctor is hard work" and similar speeches. But we haven't delved into our individual personal lives; not since the talk we had in the lounge. I know Dr. Cox isn't giving up drinking, though; I still see him in the bar almost every time I go in there.

"What do you say we go upstairs and visit Ghandi and Carla?" Dr. Cox asked, clearing his throat. I closed my eyes and my body sagged. I was upset still; I didn't want to see someone else's newborn baby and new family when this man just left his behind.

"Dr. Cox, this guy -"

"Don't." Dr. Cox said. I turned to face him, and I could see that inside, he was torn apart. "Things happen sometimes that I, nor anyone else, can understand or explain."

I thought back to when Ben died. I remember how completely lost Dr. Cox was. He was imagining things. He didn't know where exactly he was. And the hardest part was reminding him that we were at Ben's funeral. We were never able to understand why, of all days, of all times, Ben had died in that moment. It tore Perry apart. To this day, he beats himself up over it; I can see it right now. This man died for yet unexplainable reasons - 35 years old with heart failure, and sure, he may have been slightly overweight, and sure, his cholesterol might've been high for his age, but right now, at this moment, there were no answers.

I walked up to the door, stood beside Dr. Cox, and sighed. "What if that's me 8 months from now?"

"Just take care of yourself," Dr. Cox replied. "You're in good shape for not being a work out kind of gal. And unless you hit the pies and cakes and donuts every morning from here on out, 8 months from now you'll probably still be here, annoying the hell out of every one of us."

Yeah, I missed talking to Dr. Cox.

Up in the Labor and Delivery wing, we were pointed into the direction of Carla's room, and at least I felt a bit of dread. Soon, I'll be up in this part of the hospital, holding my baby. It was exciting and scary as hell all at once.

We stood in front of the closed door for a second, both of us with our hands shoved in our pockets. "You ready for this?" Dr. Cox asked. And I knew he wasn't asking if I was ready to see the baby.

"I don't think so," I managed to say before Dr. Cox nodded, as if approving of my answer, and pushed the door open into the room.

Carla was lying on the bed, laughing and smiling and happy. Turk was sitting next to her bed, craddling his daughter in his arms. I grinned at the two of them.

"Bambi, Perry!" Carla all but squealed. "Come here, come here. Now, Dr. Cox, I know that you've got experience in this, but Bambi, you will need to learn soon enough. Turk, let JD hold the baby."

"No no no no," I put my hands up. "No, I'm not ready for that. Besides, isn't it too early..?"

"Nonsense, Melanie. If Carla says do it, you know you've gotta do it," Dr. Cox grinned his stupid grin. The one that said, 'neener neener neener, newbie'.

"Come on, JD, " Turk said, standing up and nodding toward the vacant seat. "Sit down. You have to hold her, and see how beautiful my little girl is."

"She's totally a daddy's girl, " Carla said, looking up at both me and Dr. Cox. "Turk keeps going on at length about how she'll have everything her heart desires, and she'll have ponies, and she'll be a ballerina, and she'll have all the dolls she wants. He's already told her that if she brings a boy home before she's 21, she's grounded until she gets married to whoever _he _chooses." Carla shot Turk a glare.

I sat down in the chair Turk had been sitting in. Ever so gently, Turk set the baby in my arms. I looked down at her, and had to stop myself from gasping (Dr. Cox would definitely make fun of me). She was _gorgeous_. Her little hand was in a fist by her face, and she was sleeping peacefully. She was a beautiful mix and I couldn't help but smile. I heard Dr. Cox groan and make some comment, but I was too enveloped in the moment. If I felt this way toward my best friend's baby, I can't imagine how I'd feel holding my own.

"You guys, she is beautiful, " I managed to say after a moment. I felt like I was going to break her, though. She was so small and so light, it scared the hell out of me. "You two are very lucky."

"Just wait til we bring her home, man. Then you'll get to help me with diapers, and feedings, and changing her, and giving her baths, " Turk continud to spew off a list of things that we were going to do together before Carla cleared her throat.

"You know, honey, I'd like to do all those things with you first. No offense, Bambi, " she added with a smile. I could only smile back. These two were so incredibly lucky.

I spent another ten minutes in the room with them, watching as Dr. Cox held the baby a moment, and started telling her all kinds of things about how she'd have no problem playing Turk when she got older, and that she'd always get what she wanted if she just gave him big puppy dog eyes. But I could tell that Dr. Cox was feeling the same way I did; when he's holding his own baby, he's going to be damn near tears, I bet.

I excused myself from there room, promising to come by later (but Carla said she was going to be discharged later in the day), and called Kim on her cell phone. It was noon, and her ultrasound was scheduled for 12:15. As soon as I got a hold of her, we were going to see what our baby looked like.

* * *

"What's that?" I asked when the ultrasound tech put the wand on Kim's lower abdomen. On the screen, there were two black round areas. I'd never seen an ultrasound like that before. There were times in the past few years I'd been in this hospital that I saw ultrasounds performed on pregnant women, and never did I see two black circles where the baby was supposed to be.

My stomach dropped. The tech wasn't saying anything, just kept moving the wand around, and clicking things on the machine. She was printing up pictures. Something was wrong; it had to be. Why else would she not answer my question?

"Congratulations, " the tech said finally, after a moment or two of silence. I let out the breath I'd been holding in; congratulations didn't mean anything was bad. "It looks like you've got twins."

I was so glad I didn't eat or drink anything today. I would've thrown up everywhere. Kim's smile never faltered; in fact, it got wider. "Twins?" She said, and then looked up at me. "JD, twins! There's two of them!"

Great.

"Here's baby A, " the tech said, pointing on the screen. She then clicked a few more times on the machine, and the words "Baby A" came up on the screen next to the first circle. "Do you see the heart beating right there?" She asked, pointing at the barely visible beating heart. "And here's baby B, " the tech said, pointing at the other circle, and adding the words "Baby B" to the screen. She then printed out a picture of what was on the screen and handed me one, then handed Kim one. "Here's his heartbeat."

They looked like little peanuts. That's the only way I could even describe it. Oh, shit. Two. _They_. How the hell was I going to handle two at one time? God, was this a mistake?

But I looked at Kim, who was clutching my hand and had the biggest smile I've ever seen. She even had tears in her eyes. I looked back up at the screen, and saw, for the first time, my kids. My throat clenched up and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as well.

Oh, this was going to be hard.

* * *

To my reviewers:

I love you guys. Thank you for the kind reviews.

Starting next chapter we get more angsty JD. And then we start actually _getting into _the story. I just had to set it up, and it might've taken four chapters to do, but now we're there and HOORAY! It's angst time.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.

LINE

I finished changing Jasmine's diaper and picked her up. She made a gurgling noise and tried to grab at my nose a few times before cracking a smile and giggling.

"I know, I know, " I told her, walking her over to the swing. "It's just _hilarious_, isn't it?"

As if in reply, Jasmine giggled more.

I was babysitting for Carla and Turk tonight. Every once in a while they ask me to do it, not only so they could go out, but also because I need practice. Especially since I'm going to have _two _kids to look after. Kim was on call tonight, which disappointed me. I missed spending nights with her, especially the nights when I got to watch Jasmine. But, as I'd been told repeatedly by Carla _and _Jordan, mom's have more instinct than dads, and the father's need more practice anyway.

"Oh, stop babying that kid, would you?"

Which is why Dr. Cox was here. He brought Jack over, and was currently sitting on my couch, with a glass of scotch in one hand and a remote control in the other. Jordan was visiting her mom for a few days, and the only way Dr. Cox got out of going to his mother in law's house was by promising Jordan he'd take Jack to play with other kids. By other kids, I guess he meant me, since Jasmine is way too young for that kid to play with.

"So, " I said after I turned on the swing for the baby. I sat down on the couch and opened a soda. "Another boy, huh?"

Jordan agreed to find out the sex of this baby, since last time Dr. Cox didn't get to find out. She was at least letting him have _one _thing his way.

"Yep, " Dr. Cox replied, and pulled his lips back, revealing his teeth in an almost-snarl after he took a sip of his scotch.

"That's fun, " I didn't know what else to say, and I was horribly uncomfortable all of the sudden. "We might find out in a couple of weeks, because Kim is 16 weeks now, and Jordan just found out and she's 19 weeks along."

"I get it," Dr. Cox groaned.

He always had a way of making me feel kind of pathetic, in a way. I finally had someone else to talk to who was going through almost the same stages of pregnancy with his girlfriend as I was, and he would just blow it off. I was excited, and I wanted someone to relish in the excitement with me. I should've known Dr. Cox wouldn't be that person, I mean, how many times do I need to relearn that lesson from him?

"I'm gonna get out of here. Come on, Jackie, " Dr. Cox said, standing up from the couch and picking his son up, who was sitting on the floor stacking blocks. "I'll leave those here for you to play with when you get bored." He said to me, and I just gave him a half hearted chuckle.

Once they were gone, I glanced over at Jasmine, who was fast asleep in her swing. I sighed and sat down on the couch, and opened up a binder that was sitting on the coffee table. Inside were different pages, with difference sketches of houses. I was making plans to put money down on a house, and I was currently trying to find the "perfect" design to go with my porch already on my land. We'd need at least three rooms, wouldn't we? I wasn't talking to Kim about this yet, I wanted to make it a surprise.

Jasmine woke up with a start, and began whimpering. I sighed and stood up, grabbed her and went to make her a bottle. And the moment I sat back in the recliner, settling her down to feed, I fell asleep.

LINE

Kim called me in the morning to let me know she was going to the hospital for another ultrasound. Carla and Turk had shown up very late to pick up their daughter, and I had only gotten 4 or 5 good hours of sleep when I got the phone call.

"What, why?" I asked, groggy as hell, rubbing my eyes. It was 9 AM. I had the day off, thankfully, but I guess I don't get to sleep in. I should get used to that.

"I got off of work two hours ago, and I came home and I noticed that I've been bleeding," Kim said, and I completely woke up. She wasn't happy, and I could tell she wasn't smiling. She was really upset.

"I'll meet you there, " I told her and hung up; I didn't want her to tell me no, or to tell me it's not a big deal.

Without even a second thought, I raced out the door, got on my scooter (I really, really need to look into getting a car), and took off toward the hospital. I racked my brain the whole drive there. What could bleeding mean? Late miscarriage? Placenta problems? So many things that are i not /i good.

I ran to the elevator when I got to the hospital. I wanted to avoid anyone and everyone who would slow down my trek. Unfortunately, the moment I stepped into the elevator, Elliot was standing there.

"Oh, I was just gonna go get something to eat, " she said, and then asked, "what floor?"

"Five, " I replied, and inwardly groaned. She was going to ride up to the floor with me.

"What's going on? Isn't it your day off?"

"Kim's having problems, I don't know what yet. I'll let you know, " I said, and before she could say anything else, the doors opened and I rushed out of the elevator. I went to the nearest nurse and said, "do you know where Kim Briggs is?"

"Right in there, " the nurse said, pointing at a room that was labeled "ultrasound 2". I knocked on the door and stuck my head in. Kim was sitting on the bed, wearing a hospital gown, with her ankles crossed.

"What's going on?" I asked her, pulling a chair up and sitting beside her. I grabbed her hands in mine (they were so cold) and held them tightly.

"Well, " Kim sighed. "They aren't too sure yet. They're going to check me in after the ultrasound if they find something wrong."

The doctor walked in just as she finished speaking, and got right down to business. She had Kim lie on her back, and pulled the hospital gown up to her breasts (but not revealing them, thankfully; it would make me awfully uncomfortable to see my girlfriend's breasts in front of another man). He put the ultrasound wand on her belly, and we sat in silence for quite a while.

Finally, he asked, "have you been cramping at all? Any sort of contractions?"

"No, sir, " Kim answered quietly.

After another few minutes of silence, the doctor said, "the babies are active, which is good," he pushed a button and we heard their heartbeats, and I immediately got teary-eyed. I loved these kids already. "Your cervix looks closed, but we'll check you in anyway just to monitor you and make sure things are going well. Your placentas look in place and healthy. I can't see any cause for the bleeding just yet. It could be that you just overworked yourself," he gave Kim a stern look. "If I have to start putting you on bedrest, I will, " he added. Then he looked at the screen again, and off handedly said, "would you like to know the sex of the babies?"

"Absolutely!" Kim blurted out without a second of hesitation. I just smiled and nodded quickly. I really, really wanted to know.

A few seconds went by, and then the doctor froze an image on the screen. "Here's Baby A," he said, pointing. "This is the butt, and the two legs, and it looks like it's a, " he moved the wand around a little more. "A girl."

Awesome, it's a girl! Well, it was either that or a boy, but still. I couldn't help but grin even bigger. Suddenly, this was turning into the greatest day I've ever had.

"Baby B is, " the doctor looked at the screen a little longer than the first time, then froze the screen. "That sure looks like a he."

"A boy and a girl?" Kim asked and looked up at me. "We have one of each! Oh my gosh," she gripped my hand tightly.

"Now, this isn't 100, so I'd keep any receipts you accumulate," the doctor said, then held his hand out to Kim to help her sit upright. "Why don't we check you in, and keep you monitored for the next few hours at least?"

We all three walked to the nurses station moments later, and the doctor told a nurse to get us to a private room to be monitored. Once inside the room, the nurse put two straps around Kim's belly. One was blue, one was pink. One monitored contractions, the nurse explained, and the other one monitored heartbeats. I sat down in a chair beside the bed Kim was lying on and listened to the nurse ask Kim all kinds of questions (do you smoke? Do you do drugs? Are you in any pain?).

Once the nurse left the room to find the doctor, I turned to Kim. "I was going to wait to tell you this, and make it a surprise, but I can't hold it any longer. I'm putting a payment down soon to start construction on a house."

"JD, " Kim said breathlessly, then smiled. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," I answered, nervously messing with the blanket around Kim's lower half of her body. "I've been going over different models and plans and I can't quite decide what the house should look like. But now that we know what we're having, it makes this whole thing seem so much more..real. We need to get this construction started soon. We've only got 20 weeks left, roughly."

Kim threw her arms around me in a half-assed hug. She buried her head in my neck and I could hear her start to cry. "JD, that's seriously the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"You're my baby momma," I said with a grin, rubbing her back. "I'm going to treat you like a queen, Kim. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I'm there."

The doctor came in at that moment, and Kim sat back, rubbing her eyes.

"Okay, we won't have any of that, " the doctor said sarcastically. "Kim, could I have you lie on your back with your legs up in these stirrups here? I'm going to check for dilation."

Kim obeyed, putting her feet in the stirrups. The doctor covered her lower half entirely so nobody but him could see what was under there (although, for some reason, I already knew, ha ha).

"You're having mild contractions," the doctor said finally, taking his gloves off and allowing Kim to put her legs down. "Your cervix is soft, but you haven't dilated yet. I'm gonna keep you here for the rest of the night, and see how things go. We're going to start an IV of fluid and Terbutaline to stop the contractions and rehydrate you. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to put you on bedrest for at least a few days, and depending on how well your body reacts to the medication and rest, you might be able to be back at work in a week or two."

The idea of Kim being in the hospital overnight made me sad. But I'm glad it was my day off. I was going to spend the rest of the day with her. Well, most of it, anyway.

"I'm gonna go home and grab some movies and the house plans, so we have something to do, okay?" I asked her once the doctor left. Kim looked so scared and sad all of the sudden, and my heart broke for her. I was just trying to stay positive.

"Okay." She gave me a kiss goodbye.

On my way downstairs, I kept telling myself that everything was going to be fine. The doctor was paying attention to her, and so far everything seemed to be okay.

Everything _was _okay, right?

LINE

Somewhat short, I must admit, but tomorrow there will be another chapter. Hopefully it'll be longer (I was busy all day today, it was my birthday). From here on out, the chapters should be almost twice as long. HOORAH!

Thanks to my reviewers. I 3 you guys!


	6. Chapter 6

I went to a regular dentist yesterday, an oral surgeon, my OB, and now I think I've got ear infections.

Thank the lord for pain killers.

Sorry this didn't get posted yesterday.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Scrubs.

* * *

I bought a new car. I couldn't believe it. Kim and I went shopping, and we got a minivan. Oh, it was _on_. I was going to pimp this car out so much you'd hardly know it was a van until _whoosh_, I'M GONE. I can just imagine myself racing other people with this awesome car.

And my house! My house was halfway done. I had to ask for help from my mom, of course, but I got a loan from the bank for the down payment on our house. The frame was up, and they were in the process of putting up the walls. Thankfully, the old gay men have all but stopped coming around. I think they still come out every Friday or Saturday night, but as long as they don't trash my house frame, I'm perfectly at ease.

Kim's now nearly 24 weeks pregnant. I can't believe it. Time is _flying. _Our kids are moving and kicking like crazy, and I get to feel them every night before I go to sleep. I'm no longer afraid of losing them. We've gotten this far, and I just b know /b that we're going to go all the way.

My mom came out last week to visit. It was the first time I've seen her since my dad's funeral. It was great to introduce her to everyone, especially Kim. She's going to have two grandkids, and she's absolutely stoked. She went out with Kim and they bought so many baby things, I think it's safe to say that we're set when it comes to clothes. Of course, Kim and I need to buy other things, like a crib, and strollers, and carseats, and swings, and lord, we still had a lot of things to do. She even wants _two_ nurseries; one for each kid. I think that's too much work, and I know that _I'm_ the one who would have to do it. Yeah, my mom gave her the suggestion, and she even tried to throw the guilt trip on me to do what the 'pregnant woman' wants.

Kim and my mom got along great. It was such a relief to me. Hell, Dr. Cox got along _fantastically_ with my mom. My mom didn't do the embarrassing mom thing, which she did with Kim, where she went on and on and on about little Johnny (that's me!) growing up. They talked about Dan for a while, and then she asked all about his son and his pregnant ex-wife and _that_ son. They talked about work at a hospital, what my mom did for a living (haha, nothing. She leeched off of other men, unfortunately for them.). But I loved her. It's been too long since I've seen her.

Wow, 24 weeks. Only 16 more to go. But, the odds of going full term with twins or more was rare. They'd try to keep her to at least 37 weeks. So only 13 more weeks. Ahh, I was getting _so_ nervous. I loved every minute of this, though.

"Newbie, seriously, " Dr. Cox slammed a clipboard on the counter in front of me. He looked furious. "I am **NOT** fucking around today. Mrs. Ellis over in room 200 is circling the drain, and the very last thing I want is to have _another _death on my shift."

Today we lost three patients. Granted, two of them were old and had heart and/or serious liver problems, and weren't meant to be here much longer anyway, but it was taking it's toll on Dr. Cox. The third patient was a teenage boy who was in a car accident a few days ago, and had been in severe condition and in a coma since the accident. I think Dr. Cox saw his son in that bed; when the kid died, Dr. Cox took off for an hour, and when he came back, his eyes were red from crying.

I flipped open Mrs. Ellis's chart, and sighed. She was 70 years old and had pneumonia. We were trying our hardest to help her, and at least make her comfortable, but it wasn't doing much of anything.

Dr. Cox slammed another clipboard on the counter, then put his hands on his head. "I can't take it anymore. I can't."

He walked away down the hall toward the elevator. I didn't know whether I should follow him or not - Mrs. Ellis needed to be checked on, and now this patient that Dr. Cox gave up on needed to be treated. I flipped open the second clipboard.

A girl came in an hour or so ago, claiming she'd been raped weeks ago. She proceeded to tell Dr. Cox and myself that she was here to get tested for any STDs and possibly pregnancy. She was only 14. Her father was with her, but he looked like he wasn't there at all; somewhat angry and shocked, and scared. I could only imagine how he felt.

Reading the chart, I felt how Dr. Cox felt. A lump grew in my throat, and it took everything in me to stop from crying. I handed Carla Mrs. Ellis's chart.

"Can you.." I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. "Can you go check her BP and temperature for me?"

Carla nodded and took the clipboard without wasting a second. Numbly, I walked toward the elevator and got in. I pushed the 3rd floor button, and put the chart under my arm. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

Once the doors opened, I walked quickly to the lounge. I stuck my head in, and saw Dr. Cox lying on the couch with a pillow across his chest, hugging it to his body. He had tears in his eyes. I walked in and pulled up a chair next to the couch, and for a long moment, we sat in silence.

"I'm not thinking about her," Dr. Cox said finally, his voice so quiet that I had to strain to completely hear him. "I'm thinking about what her father must be feeling, thinking, _imagining_. If that was my little girl in that room, and the test results.." he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"I'd kill him." I bluntly said. I was staring hard at the ground, gripping the clipboard on my lap.

"Yeah," Dr. Cox nodded, as if he were encouraging me. "They're going to want to file a police report. But I don't know..I don't know if I can go through with this, not right now, not today."

I know that there was something else that had to be bothering him. That's not to say that what has happened so far today has been great, because it's been very, very far from it. In fact, I don't think I've ever had a worse day. But for Dr. Cox to take everything _this hard_ is not at all like him.

"Go home," I finally said, and I stood up. "Go home to Jordan and Jack. I'll take the rest of your shift. Just .. go."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. For once, Dr. Cox, can you just do what I tell you to do? I can handle everything. I can do this."

"I'm going to come with you, to talk to that girl and her father. I won't ever forgive myself if I don't go. I'm her doctor." He got up from the couch, blinked the tears from his eyes, rubbed his face, and stood up. "If you tell _anyone_ -"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I cut him off quickly. I didn't ever plan on telling anyone that he was sitting in here crying. That would just be really low. **Really** low.

We stood side by side in front of this girl's room. On the other side of the door, she was fully dressed in her streets, ready to go home. Dr. Cox and I stood here, knowing full well that she won't be going home, at least not tonight. Without saying a word, Dr. Cox pushed open the door, and we entered quietly. I shut the door behind me, and the both of us pulled chair up to the girl's bed. She was blonde, with bright green eyes, and she had such a beautiful smile.

"We have your test results," Dr. Cox said softly.

The girl's father put his head in his hands. He was expecting the worst, and he could judge by our reactions that it couldn't be good.

"It's a good thing you came in, Ashlyn, " I told her, giving her a small smile. "It was truly brave of you. If you hadn't told anyone, or come in to have tests done, it would've been bad."

"Not only did the pregnancy test come back positive, " Dr. Cox cleared his throat, flipping through the chart as if he didn't know what else was wrong with the girl. He was just biding his time. He finally raised his eyes to her father's stare, and said, "Ashlyn, you have HIV."

Ashlyn just stared at us, as if she either didn't understand what Dr. Cox just said, or she was in shock. The father was just as quiet.

"Mr. Jenkins, if you and your daughter would like to press charges on the guy that did this, we will be more than willing to get cops over here to start the process," I said to him, trying my hardest not to cringe, or cry, or run out of the room. I just kept imagining what Dr. Cox was imagining; what this father must be feeling, knowing his little girl's life was now shortened.

"Yeah," he nodded, clearing his throat. He put his right arm around his daughter's shoulders. "Yeah, that's what I want to do."

Dr. Cox nodded, and nudged me with his knee slightly. I excused myself and left the room. I needed something to drink. My pager went off, and I glanced down, and my heart dropped. Mrs. Ellis was coding.

* * *

I sat in the bar that night. I wasn't drinking, really. I'd been sipping on the same appletini for over an hour. My pager and cell phone sat in front of me, and everytime I got a page, or even a phone call, I'd just ignore it. I didn't feel like talking. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

I suddenly felt everything Dr. Cox had felt earlier in the day.

Mrs. Ellis died. Ashlyn Jenkins was an HIV -positive pregnant 14 year old. A teenage boy died from a car accident. Two old men died from natural causes. And before I left for the night, another car crash victim had been admitted that wasn't going to live through the morning.

My cell phone rang for a fifth time. I ignored it. I turned my phone off. I turned off my pager, as well.

I finished my appletini and ordered a second one. I put my head in my hands, resting my elbows on the bar. I was exhausted. I worked 16 hours, four of them being Dr. Cox's remaining shift. I was surprised when I came into the bar that he wasn't there.

I listened to the guy next to me ramble on and on about how unfair it was that his wife kicked him out of the house because he drinks too much. I didn't have any sympathy for him. At least he could make a change and do something now to say his marriage. At least he had opportunities. At least he was alive. Not like the patients I had today. Not like the 14 year old girl, who had to decide whether she was going to have an abortion, to save her child a lifetime of agony, or carry it to term. If she carried it to term, not only would her child be HIV-positive, but it might not live past a very young age. If she did keep it to term, she had to struggle with the decision of giving a terminally ill child up for adoption, or keep it and have to struggle with her own disease plus her baby's.

Things _really _couldn't get worse than they've been.

Someone put a hand on my shoulder and spun me around. I let out a startled cry, and came face to face with Jordan. She had her hand on my shoulder still, and Dr. Cox stood behind her, his arms folded and a look of uncertainty on his face.

"We've been trying to get a hold of you," she said, and pulled me up from the chair. "Pay the bartender; we have to go. Now."

"Why? What's going on?" I argued, pulling away from her.

"JD, do it," Dr. Cox said, and I could tell that something wasn't right. Something was wrong.

I paid the bartender and followed the two of them out the door.

I was getting upset and worried and pissed. "Can someone -"

"Kim's been admitted into the hospital," Jordan said, and Dr. Cox grabbed her hand tightly. My heart dropped.

Things _were _going to get worse, weren't they?

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers. I love you guys. 


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Scrubs.

* * *

Kim was asleep, and I was lying on a cot next to her bed, wrapped up in a crappy hospital blanket. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. I was so scared. She's only 24 weeks pregnant. She can't be in labor, not now, not so soon.

The doctors were monitoring her contractions, which were less than 5 minutes apart. She was 5 cm dilated already. She shouldn't dilate at all until she's full term. Why is she in labor? What did we do so wrong?

She wasn't bleeding. Not yet, anyway. But the medications they gave her to slow her labor weren't working. When I arrived, she was only 3 cm dilated, and her contractions were 8 minutes apart. She's in full blown preterm labor. And they can't do anything for her, except prevent her water from breaking. Nothing else was working.

Tears kept running from my eyes. I couldn't stop crying. I was so, so scared. If only I'd answered my phone and my pages when I got the calls. Maybe things would be different now.

The doctors gave her a shot of steroids. If the babies were to be born soon, the steroids would help mature their lungs enough to survive outside the womb. They had a good chance at survival if they had those steroids. They were too young, though. Only 24 weeks.

"Why?" I whispered, and broke down into body-racking sobs. I closed my eyes tightly, and clutched my blanket.

I couldn't take this anymore.

I got out of the bed and grabbed my coat. I stepped outside the room and, making sure I had my phone and pager, told the nurse nearby that I was just stepping outside and to page me if anything happened.

Dr. Cox and Jordan had gone home after they met me at the bar. Turk and Carla didn't even know what was going on. Hell, I don't think anyone other than Jordan and Dr. Cox knew this was happening.

Once I got outside, I was quite tempted to ask a patient for a cigarette.

I sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against the hospital building, and called Dan. I couldn't talk to anyone else. My mom would be asleep, and Turk and Carla were probably dealing with their daughter. I didn't want to bring anyone down. And even if Dan was asleep, I could live with waking him up.

"Sorry, Johnny, " Dan said when he answered the phone. The noise in the backround was loud, and caused him to yell. "I can't talk right now. I'm working."

"Can you call me as soon as possible? It's really, really important."

"Hold on," there was rustling on the phone, and he was yelling over at someone, and a moment later, it was quiet on the other end. Dan came back on the phone. "What's up, little brother?"

"Kim's in labor. Dan, the babies are going to be born soon," I managed to say it without bursting into tears until the last word. I couldn't believe this was happening. Just this morning, I was so excited, I was so happy, and my day went downhill. And now my kids were going to be premature. Oh, fuck.

There was silence on the other end for a long minute. I could hear Dan breathing, though. He was breathing faster, like he was holding in tears.

"Mom and I will be there as soon as we can," Dan finally said, and before I could say thank you, he hung up. He's not good in emotional situations.

I debated calling anyone else. I needed someone - anyone, really - to talk to. Dr. Cox wouldn't want to hear it; he can't deal with crying. Jordan..ha. Again, Turk and Carla were busy with their lives.

I dialed a number, and after three rings, she answered.

"Elliot, can you come to the hospital?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I really need someone here."

* * *

"If something happens to them, I'll kill myself."

Elliot gasped, and choked on her coffee. We were sitting in the cafeteria. It was past midnight, now. She had tear stains on her face from crying with me, but thankfully, there weren't any tears left to cry - for either one of us. Now we were just drinking coffee, trying to sort out what the hell was going on.

"Don't say that, JD, " she all but begged, tears welling up in her eyes. "Nothing will happen to them, and nothing will happen to _you_."

"This is my fault, somehow," I shook my head, staring at my coffee. "I didn't do something right. I'm being punished."

Elliot's hand on mine was little reassurance. It was really my fault. I just don't know what I did so wrong. Maybe it was all the patients today that died. Maybe God was punishing me for telling that girl her life was all but ruined. Maybe it was because I didn't answer my phone tonight.

"Look, I know that it's really hard for you right now, " Elliot said softly, squeezing my hand. "Things will get better. Kim needs you just as much as you need her. She's just as scared."

"I know, Elliot." I growled at her, and looked up at her quickly. I glared through the hair that fell into my eyes.

"Go upstairs and see her. I'll go talk to Carla and Turk, if you want me to." Elliot urged, nodding her head toward the door. "Please?"

I sighed and stood up. She followed suit. She opened her arms and I fell into her hug. She was a good hugger.

"You know, JD, when you told me Kim was pregnant, I was excited, but I wondered if you'd be able to follow through. Your track record with relationships and responsibility have not been good," Elliot said into my ear, hugging me tighter. "I'm so proud of you for so many things right now. You've definitely grown up. You've matured so much the past few months."

I pulled away from her, and smiled the smallest smile. "Thank you for being here, Elliot."

She smiled back and shrugged. "What are friends for?"

* * *

There was a mad rush of nurses coming in or out of Kim's room when I got to the Labor and Delivery ward. I checked my pager; I had no missed pages. Why didn't someone contact me?

I stepped into the room and saw Kim crying and gripping the rails along her bed. She looked up at me with terrified eyes.

"JD, I'm so sorry," she whimpered, and cried even harder. I rushed to her side, and held her left hand.

"Oh, baby girl, it's okay, I don't blame you for anything," I whispered, wiping tears from her face. My heart's racing. What happened?

"Her water broke," the doctor explained to me when I turned to him. "The terbutaline made her start throwing up, which is a common side effect, and the pressure broke her water. She's ready to deliver now. There's absolutely nothing we can do."

My mouth went dry. "You can't keep her on an IV to replenish her fluids?" Thank God I did research. "You can't keep them in as long as possible?"

"She's fully dilated. Her contractions are only a minute or two apart, at the most. She's ready, we can't stop it now. I'm sorry." The doctor _did _look sorry. His face was solemn and he had a haunted look about him. I wonder if this is how I look when I tell my patients bad news.

"Okay baby," I breathed, turning to Kim. "I'm here sweetheart. It's going to be okay."

Nurses surrounded us, and within moments, the bottom of the bed had been taken away and Kim's feet were in the stirrups. I closed my eyes, and prayed.

_Please, God, please. Don't let them suffer._

As a doctor, I know how hard it is for families to accept death, or to accept the worst that can happen. As a father, the only thing I wanted was that my children didn't hurt, didn't suffer. If they die, God, please make it peacefully.

Time seemed to slow. Kim was pushing as hard as she could. The doctor was encouraging her, pushing on her stomach, trying to help her deliver. I held Kim's hand as she squeezed (holy hell, she's strong).

"You're doing so well, baby," I said to her, looking from the doctor back to Kim. Something wasn't going as it should've been. "Come on, breathe in, push push."

Kim let out a painful whimper, and the doctor looked up at her. "I'm trying to manipulate the baby," he explained. What the hell was he doing? My blood boiled, seeing that he was causing her pain. "The baby is stuck at an angle."

Another few minutes of the doctor "manipulating" the baby - his hand was actually _in _her - and he sat back and looked up at the nurse nearest him. "We need to prep her for a c-section. Call the OR. Kim, we can't get the babies out vaginally, the first one is stuck."

I closed my eyes and felt tears fall from my eyes. This was turning into the worst possible scenerio. Not only was this dangerous for the babies, but now Kim's life was in danger with the surgery. Granted, the odds were low that anything bad would happen, but it didn't change the fact that it _could _happen.

The doctor left to prep for surgery. A nurse came in with a clipboard of paperwork and handed it to Kim.

"I'm sorry," she said to her. "You need to sign all these before we can do your c-section."

I was so angry that they were making her sign paperwork while she was in pain, scared, crying, and possibly not even aware. But hospital policy was hospital policy. It sucks being a doctor sometimes.

And before I knew it, they were wheeling Kim away from me. They wouldn't let me scrub up and go in the OR with her. It's an emergency c-section, they can't wait for me to get sterile, they can't risk having me in the room if something goes wrong. I don't think I'd ever imagined this happening. The birth of my kids and I can't even be there.

I stared through the window of the OR. They put a face mask over Kim, for oxygen, and they were giving her general anesthesia. She was being completely knocked out, which is uncommon for c-sections. A nurse came over to the window, and with sympathetic eyes, closed the blinds.

Oh, God. This was really happening. I can't stop crying, either. I want to see my babies born. Not only because they're mine, but because it might be the only time I ever get to see them alive.

I collapsed into a nearby chair, and put my head in my hands. My body is shaking and I can't stop crying. I kept thinking about my car, my house, all the baby things that were piled up in Elliot's apartment. I'm so glad that none of that is at Kim's house - I don't want her to come home to those things if something goes horribly wrong.

I don't know how long I sat there, crying into my hands, but the moment the OR doors opened, I shot up. Nurses and even a specialist were rushing down the hall with one tiny gurney, pumping oxygen into the mouth of one of my babies. Oh, God, it's alive still. Is that the boy or the girl? Chills ran through my body as I glimpsed the baby; it was _so tiny_. I kind of reached out toward the group that disappeared around the corner, heading toward the NICU. Just a minute later, and another group burst through the door, pushing the second baby toward the NICU. I cried out for the babies; they were alive.

Minutes later, I was pacing the hall, taking in what I saw. I saw my babies, and they were alive when I saw them. I didn't see their faces, but I knew they were beautiful. I knew they were perfect, no matter how small they were. The OR doors opened a third time, and Kim's bed was being wheeled out. She was completely knocked out, and looked at peace, somewhat. I looked up at the doctor.

"They aren't breathing on their own," the doctor said, pulling me to the side while Kim was brought to a recovery room. "It's up to you whether we continue fighting for them, or not. They're extremely small, and might not live the night, even if we get them on ventilators."

"Do what you can," I said immediately. "I don't want to give up. Do what you can for them."

I suddenly felt extremely detached. My kids were born, they were alive, they were premature, Kim was passed out, and I suddenly had no feeling left in my body.

I made my way toward the recovery rooms. I was going to be there when Kim woke up, and I was going to tell her what I knew. I don't know what's wrong with me right now, maybe it's just grief hitting me hard, but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. I just wanted to go home, curl up in my bed, and never, ever, ever wake up.

* * *

Two chapters in one night. I'm on a role. 


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to my reviewers, you guys keep me going. I appreciate each and every one of you responding. I'd individually reply, but I'm sick, and have been for days. I feel awful.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Scrubs.

* * *

I felt so bad looking at Kim, telling her that yes, they were alive, no, they weren't breathing on their own, yes they were being worked on, and no, I didn't know what was going to happen. She was so groggy from the anesthesia. I was willing to bet she didn't even realize what exactly was going on. She was in pain, she knew that; her surgery was only 30 minutes ago. She was sleepy. She was scared.

She struggled to keep her eyes open. She wanted to be awake more than anything, to know what was going on, but the drugs were making her drift in and out of consciousness. She wasn't sleeping, technically. She'd close her eyes and drift for about a minute or two, then open her eyes as if she didn't know she'd been sleeping, and start talking to me, asking questions.

There were a couple of nurses in the room, silently standing in the corner. I'm not sure if they were trying to be supportive, or they were making sure she didn't have reactions to the drugs they were giving her, but I knew that I didn't want them there. Part of me almost lashed out and screamed at them, but that's not me. Whatever they were doing here, they were told to be here, and that's all I needed to know.

It was then, when I was thinking about why they were in the room, that a woman doctor walked into the room. She was holding back tears.

"I'm so sorry," she said, walking up to the bed and grabbing Kim's hand. "We did all we could for your son. His lungs just couldn't take it."

Kim burst into tears. I didn't know what to do. I was too numb to cry. I felt guilty for not crying; Kim was drugged up and out of it and she was still able to cry. Why couldn't I? The doctor - a neonatologist - began to cry softly, as well.

"Can I see him?" Kim finally managed to ask, and the doctor nodded and patted her hand.

"Of course. We're going to clean him up for you first," the doctor didn't leave, however. She pulled up a chair. "They are still trying to stabilize your daughter. The steroids weren't in your system long enough to do much of anything for their lungs. Now, I'm not sure what your regular doctor saw during surgery, so he'll have to discuss what happened with you, as I don't have any answers right now. I just want you to know that this wasn't your fault, and there was no way to tell this was going to happen."

_LIAR! _My mind screamed. I wanted to sock this woman. They're doctors, they should know what the hell is going on. It wasn't often that a patient died in my care from unknown causes. When Jill died from rabies, _that _was unexpected. This, this should've been caught. They should've paid attention to her. They should've done things differently.

The neonatologist left, and Kim rolled over and curled up into a fetal position, facing me. She was sobbing so hard, I wondered if she could breathe. I gave her an awkward hug, rubbing her back. I didn't say anything, though. I don't know what I _could _say. This was something so unexpected, yet deep down, this entire pregnancy, I'd had an awful feeling. I was numb. I know I'm in shock. I'm a doctor. I should've been able to stop this. I can't just blame her doctors - I'm her doctor boyfriend. _She _is a doctor. We all should've fucking noticed.

Before I could leave in a furious rage, the neonatologist walked into the room, carrying my son.

Now, the tears started coming.

Kim struggled to an upright position, and I helped her, and she reached out for the baby. The doctor gently placed the small baby in her arms.

"He's 10 inches and 14 ounces," the doctor said softly.

_Shit_. An afterage newborn is 19-21 inches, and between 7 and 9 pounds.

I couldn't help but feel proud. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe it's because he was so incredibly small to begin with, and he managed to live at least a half an hour outside the womb. He fought hard.

"How about our daughter?" I asked, giving Kim a moment of privacy with the baby, looking up at the doctor.

"She's 11 inches, 1 pound even."

Our miracle babies. They really, truly were.

I leaned forward and pulled the blanket back slightly that blocked my view of my son's face. He was so small, so perfect. He had my chin, and Kim's nose. He was so dark, though, like he had bruises all over.

I don't know how long I sat there, sobbing and taking turns with Kim, holding our son. He was so light, so small. I thought I'd break him. He looked so peaceful. It gave me chills, and I took in every second with my son, knowing I'd never, ever get this time with him after today.

"I want pictures," Kim whispered. "I want a picture of you holding him. I want a picture of me holding him. I don't think I'm going to remember this moment very well."

The drugs they gave her were making her mind fuzzy. I'd be surprised if she remembered much at all.

But I knew that we should have pictures. Definitely.

My cell phone rang. I looked over at the clock. It was already nearly 5 in the morning. We'd been sitting here for _hours_. I hadn't heard one word about our daughter. No news is good news - isn't it?

I handed the baby back to Kim and glanced at my phone. It was Dan.

"Honey, " I said, leaning forward and combing back Kim's hair. "My mom and brother are in town, or will be here shortly. They're going to want to come see us. Do you want me to call your mother, your sister, anyone?"

"I did last night, when I was first admitted." She sighed, and a couple of tears fell from her eyes. "They should be here, soon. JD, " she looked up at me, and my heart broke for the fiftieth time in the past 5 hours. "What are we going to name them?"

Names were something we'd hardly thought of. I mean, we had a huuuuuuge list of names back at my apartment, but nothing that we'd agreed on.

"I can see if the gift shop has a book," I offered, and she nodded, then looked back down at the baby. "He's beautiful, Kim. He looks so much like you."

My cell phone rang again. I kissed her head and excused myself from the room. I'm glad for the interruption, honestly. The longer I'd sit in there, the more crazy I was going to drive myself.

I answered my phone when I was out of earshot from her room.

"Hey, we're here." Dan said when I answered. "Where do we go?"

"I'll meet you downstairs at the entrance. I have to go into the gift shop, if it's open yet."

I hung up before he could say anything else. I stepped into the elevator, hit the G button for ground floor, and leaned against the elevator wall. I'd now been up for 24 hours, with 16 of those hours actually working. The rest of it was spent here, or at the bar. I'm exhausted, and I've still got this whole day to deal with.

Once the elevator opened, I made my way to the front of the hospital. The moment I stepped into the room, Dan and my mom rushed me, both throwing their arms around me in a much, much needed hug. I broke down and started crying all over again. The worst part was that there were people waiting to be seen by doctors, and I was afraid someone - anyone - that I knew would come up and ask questions. I didn't want to be here.

"Let's go upstairs," I urged the two of them, pulling from the hug and wiping my eyes. "I have to tell you what's happened."

I didn't even think about how I'd tell my family, my friends, that my son had died. And that my daughter was fighting for her life.

The gift shop was closed. I'd get a camera later. The baby names could wait until later. I didn't want to deal with any of that shit right now.

Once inside the elevator, just the three of us, I was barely able to say, "one of them died," before I completely lost it again. I can't stop crying. I want to, but I can't. This isn't fair. He was so small, so innocent.

My mom and Dan started crying as well. I'd never seen Dan cry. Not even when our dad died.

"Our daughter is still in the NICU," I said, and the elevator doors opened. We were silent the whole walk to Kim's room.

The neonatologist was in the room with Kim when we entered. I sat down in my chair beside Kim's bed, and my mom and Dan pulled up two more chairs from the other side of the room. I looked from Kim, who was crying, to the neonatologist, who looked exhausted.

"We've got her as stable as she's going to get, " the doctor said to me, but I could tell by her tone of voice that it wasn't good. "She's on a ventilator, but she's still struggling. The next 48 hours are going to be the most crucial now."

"Can we see her?" I asked, rubbing Kim's arm absentmindedly.

"In a little bit, yes." The doctor answered, nodding. She looked so sad, and I felt bad for being angry at her earlier.

I watched as my mother slowly and carefully took my son from Kim's arms. She looked down at her grandson with such sorrow. She cried softly as she stroked the baby's face, and pulled back the blanket that swaddled him, and held his tiny hand with her thumb and pointer. Dan stood up from his chair and looked over my mom's shoulder, staring at his nephew.

"He's perfect, Johnny," my mom whispered, then looked up at the two of us. "You two are very lucky to haven an angel this perfect."

What she said hurt me so bad. I wanted him to be alive, back in Kim's belly, growing and getting stronger.

Not dead, in my mother's arms.

* * *

I stood in front of the NICU window, staring at my daughter. She had tubes going into her mouth and lungs, breathing for her. Her entire face was covered with tubes, and the bottom of one of her feet had an IV in it, since it was the only vein that was big enough for an IV. She was alive, though.

I don't know how long I'd been standing here. Kim's mom and sister were in the room with her while Kim slept. My mom and Dan went to a hotel to shower and nap. I should've gone home, but I wouldn't be able to sleep. It was almost noon. I'd blown off phone calls from Turk, Carla, Elliot, and then some numbers I didn't recognize.

I was still thinking of names for my kids. I know that Kim and I both agreed that we liked the name Lillian Amber for our daughter. Our son was yet unnamed, and I felt guilty for that. We didn't know what name we liked for sure. There were names on the list that we both agreed were good - like Holden, Pierce, and Benjamin - but we didn't have one that was _perfect_. We were debating on family names, but decided that there were too many family members that would be hurt if we didn't choose to name the baby after them.

I felt someone behind me, and I didn't want to turn around to see who it was. It might be someone I don't know, going toward the nursery to see their baby. Or, it might be someone I _do _know. Either way, I don't want to turn around.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say right now. Jordan wanted me to come up here before anyone else did, to see if you need anything," Dr. Cox said, clearing his throat behind me. I could his the strain in his voice. He really didn't know how to react, or what to say. Part of me wants him to turn me around and hug me, and part of me wants him to yell at me, call me a girls name, tell me I'm a fucking dumbass for standing here, hoping something will turn out well.

"No thanks," was all I could say. The last person who should be up here is Perry Cox. He's incapable of any compassion when it comes to other people's pain. He punched me when my dad died. I can only imagine what he'll do to me now.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes. I could feel fresh tears coming on. I don't want to cry because he's being sympathetic. I don't want to cry, period.

"She's strong," he said softly. "Just like you, JD. I'm going to be around, checking up on you. If you need anyone to talk to.." he trailed off, and cleared his throat again. This was making him incredibly uncomfortable.

Dr. Cox's hand left my shoulder, and he turned to walk away. I turned from the window to face him.

"If you want to see my son," I started to say, and my voice cracked. I started to cry again. I turned and looked back through the window at Lillian.

Dr. Cox walked over and stood next to my left side, and put his arm around my shoulder in a half-assed attempt at a hug. I cried harder. I'm so tired, and I'm so scared, and I don't know what to do, or what's going to happen.

"I'd love to, JD, but when you're ready," he let go of me. "Try to go get some rest. If you want, we'll start rotations, and we'll call you if anything happens."

I don't remember what I said after that. I remember staring at my daughter, my tiny, beautiful little girl, struggling with every breath to live, and then nothing.

* * *

There you go, guys. Chapter 8. 


	9. Chapter 9

It's a day late. After writing chapter 8, I had to take a bit of a break. It made me really, really sad. 

To my reviewers:

**AngelsWings5**: Thank you, here's the new update )

**smilebackwards**: Aw, I didn't think anyone would cry over it. hug

**MeghanthePagan**: Honestly, the reason I'm writing this story is for my own kind of therapy. To get out what I've been holding in for a year and a half. A lot of what's happened in this story, down to the son's death, happened to me, and as sad and even kind of pathetic/sick/whatever you want to call it, as it seems, it's helping me by writing all this out. I've been where JD and Kim are, and writing helps me overcome that sadness I feel late at night (which is when I write these chapters). I'm glad you were able to pick up on all that.

I only had 3 reviews. Ah, well, can't please everyone.

* * *

I woke up in the on call room. It was completely dark, and I heard someone in the room snoring lightly. I moaned and rolled over, then grabbed my cell phone from my pocket. It was after 6 PM. I racked my brain, trying to figure out how I got here. I remember talking to Dr. Cox, standing right in front of the NICU, and then nothing. Either I was so exhausted, I collapsed right there, which is an embarrassing thought, considering it was right in front of Dr. Cox, or I was so exhausted I made my way back to this room and I just can't remember.

My eyes hurt. They're swollen and crusty from crying. I rub them clean, and sigh. I want a shower. But more importantly, I want to know what's going on with my daughter.

I blinked rapidly the moment I stepped out of the dark on call room. The lights in the hospital were bright. I made my way towards the elevator, and with each step, I became more scared. I didn't want to deal with this reality. Things weren't supposed to go like this - not for anyone, and especially not for me. I did everything right in my life. I didn't touch drugs, I didn't smoke, I drank occasionally. I never got in trouble. I stayed out of everyone's business. Why did something so horrible happen to me?

Once in the elevator, I debated for a moment where to go. Then I hit the G button. I needed some coffee.

The moment I walked into the cafeteria, I was tempted to turn right back around and run. Everyone that I wanted to avoid was sitting in there, in a big group around one large circular table. Jordan, Dr. Cox, Elliot, Carla, Turk, my mother, Dan. They all looked up the moment I walked in. And they had all been crying. Every one of them.

I don't know if I expected anyone to jump up and rush over to me, but I was somewhat disappointed when no one did. I shrugged it off, though, and got my cup of coffee. I approached the table apprehensively; I didn't know what I expected them to say or do, nor did I know what I was supposed to say or do. An empty chair was placed between Carla and my mom. The two of them gave me awkward side hugs and told me they loved me. It made me feel a little better.

"What's going on?" I forced myself to say. This was awfully awkward.

"Johnny, we've all been talking," Dan started, bringing my attention to him. He was sitting next to Dr. Cox. "We have decided to financially take care of everything that needs to be taken care of. I know it's hard to talk about still, but the mortuary is going to want to know, tonight, what you want to do with your son. If you want a funeral and burial service, we will take care of that. If you want him to be cremated, we will pay for it. You won't have to worry about any of it."

Wow.

That made everything seem so..final.

And real.

I sipped on my coffee for a long time, and stared at the table top. I didn't know what to say. I'm flattered, yes. But I don't think I'm anywhere near ready to decide where my son's body will be for the rest of .. eternity?

"I was out for a while," I changed the subject smoothly. "Has there been any news, any change?"

"Lillian has crashed a couple of times," Turk said quietly. "We didn't want to wake you unless it was definite. They've been able to stabilize her every time, so far."

My blood burned. How dare they not wake me up? What if she died and I wasn't there to see her? I know that they were looking out for my best intentions, but fuck that.

I pushed my chair back and stood up. I didn't bother looking at anyone; I left. I wanted to go see Kim and Lillian and our son.

* * *

Kim was looking through a book when I walked into the room. She looked exhausted and still drugged up. She looked up at me and forced a smile.

"I'm just looking for a name for the baby," she said, as if she owed me an explanation. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently; there was an IV in her arm and I was careful not to hurt her. "You choose a name. I trust your judgement."

I don't know why I told her that. I think I'm too numb and tired and whatever else I could be to care anymore. I mean, I do care, don't get me wrong. But the more I dwell on this, the more angry and frustrated and hurt I become.

"I love you, JD, " Kim's voice cracked when she said this, and a tear fell from her eye. "I know that we haven't really talked about this. But..but I love you."

For a long time I thought that I could fall in love with Kim, that she was the one. For a long time, I tried to convince myself that I loved this woman, and not just because she carried my kids.

It broke my heart to second guess all of that now. But I did. Did I love her?

"I love you too," I forced myself to say. Now wasn't the time to talk about this love nonsense. Now wasn't the time to break her heart. When would be the right time?

Kim smiled, and this time it wasn't forced. At least she felt a bit better now. "I like the name Caden. With a C, or a K, I don't care. But it means fighter. It feels appropriate."

"Caden Dorian," I said aloud, testing it. "I like it if you do."

"Caden Riley Dorian."

The moment I agreed, Kim handed me a few pieces of paper. "These are for their birth certificates. We both need to sign them, and now that they have names, we can turn in the paper work."

This day was way too long for me. Granted, I slept about 6 hours, but it was still entirely way too long. I have to go through the phases of grief quickly, to finish paper work and tell the mortuary what we want done, and .. damn.

"Kim, did you get pictures?" I asked, looking around the room. I just now noticed that Caden wasn't in the room; the last I saw, Kim and her mother and sister were taking turns holding the baby, and that was hours ago. "And where's the baby?" God it felt weird saying that out loud.

"The nurses took him, to do hospital pictures. My mom left this camera here," she pointed at the table beside her bed, at a disposable camera. "So that I could take pictures of you and him, before the mortuary comes."

"About that, Kim.." I trailed off, and put my head in my hands. I couldn't deal with this, not anymore.

"I want to bury him."

Good. She can make all the decisions.

"My family is going to help pay for the services, then," I thought about what I said after the words came out of my mouth. I consider all of those people - even Jordan, ha ha - as family.

A nurse stuck her head in, to see how Kim was doing, and Kim asked her, "could you bring the baby back, one last time? We want to get a few pictures.."

"I'll see what I can do," the nurse nodded, then left.

We were silent for the next, I don't know, thirty minutes? The nurse brought Caden back to the room, but said we only had a few minutes. I held my son for the last time, looking down at him and not caring if Kim took pictures of me crying. I unwrapped his blanket and touched his fingers, his toes, everything. He was perfect.

And once the nurse took Caden away for the last time, I got up and left the room without saying a word to Kim. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to see my daughter before I go home tonight, and leave this hospital. I can't take it anymore. I'm being selfish, and I know I am, but I can't sit here with Kim anymore. I can't be in this depressing situation. This isn't me. This doesn't happen to me.

I stood at the NICU, staring through the window. I watched Lillian's labored breaths. I watched everything. I should be used to things like death, or fighting death, because I'm a doctor. I see this stuff almost daily. But when it's your child, your family, it's different. However hard I try to detach myself from the situation, it doesn't work.

I had to get out of here. I had to leave.

I pressed my hand on the window, staring hard at my daughter, burning this image of her into my head.

Then, I left.

* * *

When I walked into my apartment, I was relieved to see that Elliot was not home yet. The last thing I wanted was to deal with her. I walked into my room, and flipped on the light, and my heart broke. Baby clothes were in boxes along the far wall. I numbly walked over to them, and opened the one on top. I pulled out a small outfit - it was Caden's - and held it to my chest. I felt fresh tears coming. My little boy wouldn't ever wear these clothes. Why, why did we stupidly go out and buy so many baby clothes when this sort of thing was going to happen?

I hit 'ignore', and shut off my phone. I shut off my pager. I stood up from my bed, closed and locked my bedroom door, and made my way to the bathroom. This was the only reason I loved having this room in this apartment - my own privacy, my own bathroom.

I shut and locked the bathroom door, and slid down the to the floor, sitting cross legged.

More tears came, and I had to stop myself from loudly sobbing. My chest, my heart, hurt so bad. I wanted to die. I want the pain to stop coming and going in waves. One minute, I'm numb and I don't care. The next I can't stop crying, I can't stop hurting. I want it to end.

If Lillian dies, I want to be with my kids, forever. Fuck everyone else, they can all deal without me.

I feel like I've grown up 10 years in the past 24 hours.

I stood up from the ground and walked over to the sink. I pulled open a drawer and started digging through it. I closed it and opened a second drawer. I grasped what I was looking for, and sat back down with my back against the bathroom door. I pulled the sleeve up my left arm, and for a long moment, stared at my unmarked skin. I had three scars on my right arm, and I remember how ashamed I was when I saw them. Now, the only thing I could think about was how I needed this hurt, this pain in my heart, to stop, and this was the only thing I could think of.

I pressed the razor blade I held in my right hand firmly onto my skin, closed my eyes, and felt my heart race and pain subside when the blade cut across my skin.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

I'm thinking of chapter 11 being the last chapter of this story, then starting up a sequel. I don't know why. I just like to feel accomplished with a finished story.

I got more reviews, HOORAH! Thanks you guys! muah

**Jungian Shadow:** I had to get into the habit of reviewing stories, myself. I'm not mad at you, or anyone, who doesn't do so, because some of us forget :p I sit here all day, because I don't have work or school or anything, and hit refresh repeatedly for _any _story to be updated. I know how you feel.

**AngelsWings5:** I always write sad stories, I'm not sure why. Thanks for your review!

**saltoftheearth:** I won't hold it against you for not reviewing my last chapter. I'm just a review whore and I get so motivated and excited when I get a bunch )

**MeghanthePagan:** What happens if they don't pull JD out of this, hmm? What then? Ooooh, the ideas that run through my mind with that thought..

**inuyashalover10: **I continued I continued! No crying! heh )

Enjoy.

* * *

I don't know how long I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling in my room. I know that Elliot came home, and Turk was with her, and they knocked on my door a few times, asking if I was okay. I didn't answer them. I was numb, inside and out. My mind was blank and fuzzy. I think I keep repeating the day's events in my head. Sitting outside the operating room, alone, waiting for Kim to get out of surgery. Seeing my son alive. Seeing my son dead. Standing in front of the NICU, watching my daughter struggle to live. Over, and over, and over these images and scenes played out in my head.

I started to imagine different scenarios. Like, what if my son was alive, and my daughter had died? Or, what would we be doing _right now _if none of this had even happened? What if they both died at the same time? Or they both lived? I imagined Dr. Cox standing behind me, while I was staring through the window at my daughter, and him grabbing my and pulling me into a hug. Why am I so obsessed with him hugging me? Why can't I figure out that _he doesn't care_. I like to make myself believe that he does, but suddenly, I'm not so sure. If he cared, he'd be here, wouldn't he? Turk and Elliot care, because they're here - or at least they _were _here.

I felt nauseas. My mom, my brother, my best friends, my boss, my girlfriend, everyone, was so much stronger than me. They were handling this a hell of a lot better than me. Why am I so weak? Why can't I just move on? I'm a loser. I mean, hell, look what I did to myself. I sat on the floor in my bathroom for I don't know **how **long, and I did something I thought I'd never do again. I did it once, _once!_, and that was because I was drunk and depressed. Funny how the first time I cut myself, the first time I drew my own blood, was because I was depressed over Kim being pregnant. And now, I've done it so much worse, because Kim isn't pregnant anymore. Because my son is in heaven, and my daughter may shortly join him.

Tears exploded from my eyes. It's been hours since I've cried. My chest hurt as I let out long, loud sobs. I can't even stop myself, now. My body won't stop shaking, and my heart won't stop hurting.

I rolled off the bed and got to me knees, putting my elbows on my bed and clasped my hands together.

"I'm so, so sorry, Caleb," I sobbed, my head dropping to my forearms. "I'm sorry I'm so weak. I'm sorry that you are gone."

A wave of nausea overcame me, and I struggled to the bathroom. I collapsed next to the toilet, and started retching. Nothing came up, which, in my opinion, is worse than throwing up a whole day's worth of meals. At least you feel accomplished when you throw up food. When you dry heave and maybe just a little bile comes up, that's the worst.

After minutes of dry heaving, I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked horrible. My eyes were so red and puffy from crying, it's a miracle I could keep them open. Then, I looked down at my arms. I felt my stomach turn. What did I do to myself? Why did I do this? It made me feel better at the time - sure. But now reality was hitting me. Someone was going to see this. I had so many cuts, oh God there were so many. Thirty? More? I don't even know, I didn't keep count. I just kept going, over, and over I tore my skin with the blade.

Dr. Cox said he'd have the medical board pull me from my job and get help if I ever did this again. Or if he ever suspected it. I can't lose my job, not now. My job is the only thing that might keep me sane.

Guilt tore at me. What was I thinking? What if Kim sees what I've done to myself? She'll hate me, think I'm disgusting, never want me around her again. What if my daughter lives, and I have to one day explain to her how stupid her daddy was? How he didn't think she'd live and he was - maybe - trying to take his own life?

Was I trying to commit suicide?

I don't think I was. The cuts weren't deep enough, they weren't along the vein, they weren't typical of suicide.

I can't even remember exactly _why _I did this. I know I'm hurting - definitely. But _this_?

I turned on the faucet, and picked up a bar of soap. I lathered my hands and cleaned my arms, wincing as the cuts began to sting from the soap. I rinced my arms, then washed my face. I grabbed a towel and dried myself off.

Once in my room again, I pulled open my drawer, and grabbed a fresh long sleeved shirt. Thank God I had so many of these, or else people would think it's quite suspicious that I'm wearing these. I needed to go back to the hospital. I needed to be there for Kim. I needed to stop being so selfish.

I opened my door, and Turk jumped up from the couch. He was definitely sleeping, or almost anyway.

"JD," he rushed over to me, and pulled me in for a hug. "I'm so sorry, JD. Is there anything I can do?"

Was this what I was going to have to put up with for the next few days - or weeks? Every person I know comforting me, asking me if I needed anything? I don't want to be around if that's the case. I'll keep myself locked up in my room until the first week or two passes, so I don't have to deal with them anymore.

"I need to get to the hospital," I told him, pulling away from the hug. I made my way towards the door. I guess I expect him to take me, and I'm not going to ask him. I'll walk if I have to. But, he wanted to know if there was _anything _he could do. Christ, I feel like such an asshole.

Turk had his keys out in a second, though, completely unaware (or maybe it just didn't bother him) that I was acting this way. I locked the apartment behind him, then followed him to the car. Thankfully, he didn't start talking.

The whole drive to the hospital was silent. I could feel my pulse in all the cuts in my arm, stinging me. Guilt ran through my body, like blood in my veins, thinking about what I was hiding from my best friend. I wonder if he suspected anything. Sitting so close to him made me uncomfortable, like he could suddenly read every thought, every intention, every feeling.

"Hey, I just want you to know, we're all here for you, man. I know that we really don't have any idea what you're feeling or going through, but if there's anything we can do, we're all here. This has affected all of us more than you think," Turk said as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Why should this affect him at all? What's he trying to get at?

Why am I so judgemental? He's my best friend, of course it affects him.

"Dr. Cox is working your shifts for you for the rest of the week," he continued as he parked in a space. I completely forgot about work. "On Friday, you need to let Dr. Kelso know whether you need more time off or not."

I contemplated what he said.

"I don't know if I ever want to come back to work," I said, and I know I meant what I said. It wasn't in a crazy, suicidal kind of way, either. I just didn't know if I could do this anymore. It was hurting me too much.

"You make that decision when you get there," Turk patted my shoulder. "Do you want me to come up with you, or stay down here to take you home?"

"Just go home. Be with your family," I opened the door and stepped out into the night. God, what time is it? My internal clock was way off. "I'll call you later today, or tomorrow, or - what the hell time is it, anyway?"

"It's quarter to 3 in the morning."

I moaned. I closed my eyes, which were tired from crying. "I'll call you later today if I need anything."

I shut the door and made my way up to the hospital. With each step, the guilt in my conscience grows bigger and bigger. I now had to confront everyone in this hospital that knew me, and pray to God they didn't know what was hiding under my sleeves. Could I tell them a cat scratched me? Would they even believe that? Ha, they're doctors, I doubt it.

I thought about my patient, Ashlyn. The 14 year old that was raped, and got pregnant, _and _contracted HIV. I wondered how she was doing. Was she handling the news better than I was handling my situation? What was she going to do the rest of her life? I feel almost like I'm in a competition, although it's horrible for me to think that. Who has it worse? The doctor, with one child who died, and another one struggling to live, or the girl who was a child still herself, facing pregnancy and a lifelong disease that **will** kill her in the end?

Why was I thinking like this? Bad things happen to everyone, right? Shouldn't I just..I don't know, "get over it"?

Part of me wanted to find this girl, sit her down, and just talk to her. Tell her what's going on with me. Be there for her. But what's a fourteen year old girl going to say to a thirty two year old guy? Nothing.

On the Labor and Delivery floor, my emotions overcame me again. I wanted to stop coming here altogether. Kim needed me, my daughter needed me. I just felt awful when I was here, like I was suffocating, or being closed in. I wanted to be away for good.

Kim was sleeping when I came into the room. A nurse brought me a cot, a pillow, and a blanket for me to sleep on. I made the bed, but didn't lie down. I just sat on it, watching Kim sleep. She's been through so much more than I have. It hurt me to think about it. Not only was she emotionally and mentally hurt, but physically, as well. Her body was recovering from surgery, the drugs were definitely taking a toll on her - they do to every patient. Yet, she seemed to be taking all of this a lot better than I am.

I wasn't sitting there long before someone came and stood in the doorway. I looked up, and my heart just..dropped. Dr. Cox was standing there, with his hands in his coat pockets, looking uncertain about many things. What was he doing, working oncall? I racked my brain, then remembered that, der, he was covering my shifts. Which made me feel bad, because he looked so tired. I felt even worse, then, thinking about what I'd done to my arms, to my body.

_"If I ever, ever see anything like this again, or even suspect that you're doing something this stupid, I'm going straight to the medical board, and I will make sure that you get help, even if that means being out of work."_

Maybe I did need help. I don't even care if I was out of work, anymore. Maybe I should tell Dr. Cox everything, show him everything, let him fix me, because, quite frankly, I don't know how I can fix myself right now.

I quietly walked out into the hallway, and Dr. Cox started walking. I guess he wanted me to follow him?

The two of us didn't talk once until we were in the empty cafeteria. There were two sandwiches sitting on a table, with two glasses of water. Dr. Cox sat down at the table, then nodded toward the other seat.

"I'm not really hungry," I muttered, sitting down. "But thanks anyway." I sipped on the water.

"Eat it," Dr. Cox demanded. He unwrapped his sandwich.

"I'll save it for later, really," I meant it, too. I wasn't hungry now, but maybe later I will be, once the shock wears off. Am I still in shock?

Really, I don't know what he expected to accomplish by having me come down here. I wasn't eating, he wasn't talking, I didn't _want _to start talking. But, I know Dr. Cox, and I know that this is him at least _trying_. That meant something to me, at least.

"I'm worried about you, Newbie," Dr. Cox said, then lifted the cup of water to his mouth to take a long drink. "You collapsed earlier when we were talking, and I had to get you to the on call room just to sleep it off. That was a pain in the ass. I know this hasn't been going on very long, but it's best to stop these kinds of things from progressing, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't," I think I did, though.

Dr. Cox sighed, and put his sandwich down. He stared at me so long I got uncomfortable and lowered my eyes to the table. Did he know what I did to myself?

"I don't want you to end up on Nervous Guy's working bench," Dr. Cox finally broke the silence. "Nobody wants you to end up there."

"What makes you think I'd do something like that?" I looked back up, and narrowed my eyes at him. I don't know why it made me angry, but it did.

He sighed again. "Look, Patricia, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now. Life has taken its shits on me plenty of times. My mom died when I was fifteen. She killed herself," he pulled up the left sleeve of his jacket, revealing his skin, and dragged his right pointer from wrist to elbow, right along the vein. "I found her like that, too. I thought she was depressed, I thought something was wrong, but hell, I was fifteen, what did I know _for sure_? My dad beat the hell out of me from a young age, then took off shortly after my mother died. And, don't get me wrong, Newbie, I hated the bastard, but we kept in touch until he died ten years ago, right here in this hospital.

"The point I'm trying to make, is this: As much shit as I'd gone through, and I've endured, the one thing I thank the stars for is my son, and Jordan, and this hospital. If I didn't have these things, I'd be nowhere right now. I can't imagine, whatsoever, what you're feeling right now. But I know you well enough to know that you're going to take this hard, and I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

What he said sounded funny, and didn't sound like him. I never knew about his past, or his parents, I never bothered to ask. I felt sorry for him, though.

"The last thing I want is for you to feel sorry for me," he interrupted my thoughts. How does he know what I'm thinking!? "And, personally, I don't want you to feel sorry for yourself. I know you're going to, because I know that's how people grieve, but it doesn't mean I don't want you to. You are blessed, Kelly, truly, you are."

I don't know why, but him calling me the girl's names, and Newbie, it made me smile. Good ol' Dr. Cox. It made the whole talk, and situation, more bearable, when someone was behaving like normal. It made reality seem easier to deal with.

* * *

I had crawled into Kim's bed, careful not to pull out her IV's, and held her tightly to my body. I'd waken her up, but only for a moment, before she fell back asleep. I was just comfortable, just relaxed enough to fall asleep, when a nurse rushed into the room.

"I'm sorry, " she said, and I sat up. "Your little girl is crashing, again."

I felt as if my whole life was over, now.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Final Chapter**

Thanks to all my reviewers! Some of you I individually responded to already. The others, I'll definitely do it first chapter of the next story. I'm tired and cranky and I'm not feeling good tonight. Plus, I'm getting ready for a road trip (psh, stupid idea, I'm 8 months pregnant and I get to sit in the car for 5-7 hours, ugh).

I hope you like this chapter. It made me cry to write it..

* * *

During the entire funeral service, I couldn't feel my body. It was almost like I didn't exist. I almost feel like Dr. Cox must've felt when Ben died. Totally detached. Unaware of people around us. Seeing things. I've definitely been seeing things. I've hardly slept this past week.

I'm just glad that my kids are being buried together, and I only have to attend one funeral.

She struggled, she really did. My daughter, that is. I feel horrible. As a parent, the only thing I wanted was for her to not suffer, to not be in pain. I'll never know, but I think she was in pain. She struggled and fought so hard, and I _am _proud of her. I just wish I didn't feel so bad.

Everyone I knew - and everyone Kim knew - from out of state, travelled here for this funeral. Everyone from the hospital that is close to us is here. I really don't know _how _it happened - Dr. Kelso must have brought doctors from a nearby hospital to cover for a few hours.

I blink tears out of my eyes, listening to the service, my eyes glued to the caskets. They're horribly small. It makes this whole thing _that much sadder_. Kim is crying next to me, but I can't bring myself to comfort her. It's nothing against her - I just feel like throwing up at the thought of emotionally and physically comforting someone else right now. I'm a selfish bastard, and I've come to terms with that the past few days. Is this how Dr. Cox feels on the inside? Cold and deflated?

I turned my head to the left, suddenly aware of someone's hand on my shoulder. Dr. Cox doesn't look at me; his eyes are distant like mine must be. He's sitting behind me, but is leaned forward enough to rest his hand there. I shrugged his hand off my shoulder; I don't want him touching me.

Turk and Carla are sitting beside me. I know Carla's crying. Turk is just as lost looking as Dr. Cox is.

My arms throb under this suit jacket. I'm ashamed of myself for doing it again, and again, and even again. I've done it almost daily since Caleb died. It makes me feel better, albeit ashamed. I'm like a walking oxymoron, almost. I hate myself for being this kind of person. I'm sick, twisted, demented. What kind of normal, non-fucked up person does something like this to themselves? God, but it makes me feel better.

I get an itch to do it again, right now. I close my eyes and shudder slightly. I can't be this person who is **addicted** to self injury. Who the _hell _becomes addicted to something that doesn't involve drugs or alcohol?

A sob escapes my throat at a sudden realization: not only am I some sick, depressed, fucked up cutter, but I'm thinking about cutting _at my children's funeral_.

I bury my head in my hands, with my elbows resting on my knees. More sobs escape my throat, and I can't stop them from coming. Oh, God, I'm horrible for thinking these things. But what am I supposed to think of? All the good times we had together?

"They didn't live long enough to have good times," I said aloud, then realized I was still sitting here, in the middle of the funeral service. Kim cried harder beside me. I'd be embarrassed, except it relieved me a bit, being able to say what was on my mind, no matter where I was.

When I got to see them for the very last time, I placed a small teddy bear in each of their caskets. It was all that would fit in there.

"So you aren't scared," I whispered to each of them as I placed it in there. Tears kept falling from my eyes.

Kim put roses on top of the caskets once they were closed, and I stood there awkwardly, with my hands in my pockets, as they were lowered into the ground.

* * *

I was lying on my bed, with my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling, when Elliot knocked on my door and walked into the room. I looked over at her, but didn't bother to move. In fact, I don't think I had any kind of reaction, other than turning my head to acknowledge her. Her eyes were red from crying. At least she was alone. But, I realized, Keith hasn't been around much the past few days. Then again, neither have I.

"How are you holding up?" She asked, sitting down beside my knees.

"Fantastic." I answered. Wow, I've mastered this monotone thing.

Elliot looked awkward. Good.

She rubbed her hands on her pants and looked down at the floor. Then she looked up at me. "I've never seen you like this before, JD. I want to know that you're okay."

I could take this conversation in many directions. I didn't want to worry her, though.

"I won't ever get to see their first smiles, " I sighed, then looked back up at the ceiling. "Or their first steps. Or hear their first laughs. I'm missing out on everything that I didn't even realize I was looking forward to."

I saw her out of the corner of my eye wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. She sniffed quietly.

"I love you, JD. I always have, and I always will. I don't know how to even begin to help you. I haven't ever lost anyone," she looked down at the floor. I suddenly felt bad for her. She _was _trying. I wasn't helping, much, either. "I'm just here if you ever need to talk. Don't be ashamed or afraid, either. I swear to you, I won't ever tell people what you tell me."

I managed a weak smile. I felt so bad for making her feel bad, but deep down, I kind of wanted everyone to hurt as badly as I was hurting.

"I'm okay, Elliot. Just give me a few days, and I'll be fine," I didn't _want _to lie. I don't think I'll ever, ever be the same person again. Or 'fine'.

I thought she'd leave, but she didn't.

"You know, it's not the same without you at work. Have you and Dr. Kelso decided when you'll come back?"

"No. I'll probably come back in a week or so," if I could make it that long without, well, completely losing myself. "Dr. Kelso said he doesn't really care, one way or another, what I decide to do. He'll give me a whole month off, if I wanted, but I don't think I'll take him up on that. He'd probably never give me a day off again for as long as I live."

"Don't push yourself, please? Take as much time as you need," Elliot all but begged me. Her eyes told me how worried she was. I sighed. "Dr. Cox is so worried about you, JD. I seriously have never seen him like this. Not even when Ben died. Jordan told me that he's not himself, and he wants nothing to do with Jack the past couple of days, and he avoids her more than he ever did. I think that maybe you should talk to him, if anybody. You both need each other, and not in the way that my brother would need another guy. He's torn up about this. You're his stability when everyone else poos on him, and without you around, he's just..horrible."

It made me feel better to hear her say that to me. To know that Dr. Cox actually cared - at least I _hope _that's what it is - gave me some hope that maybe, _maybe_, I could get through this. Dr. Cox struggled a few times since I've met him. I like to think I was available to him as much as possible, supporting him, being there for the guy. What if he completely shoots me down if I allow him near me, though? I can't afford to let him know what's been going on with me, mentally, physically, emotionally. It's Dr. Cox - he'd use it against me, somehow.

"I'm gonna take a shower, and try to get some sleep," I lied to her. I wonder if she knows me that well that she'd be able to tell when I'm lying.

Apparently she didn't. "Okay, you get some rest." She stood up and made her way to the door. She paused before leaving the room. "When was the last time you ate something, JD? You look like you've lost weight."

"It's been a crazy week. I'll eat something when I get out of the shower."

Truth was, I hadn't eaten much at all in the past week. I'd eaten bread, some of that sandwich Dr. Cox gave me, crackers. I kept myself hydrated, but I wasn't very hungry. I don't know if that was because I was depressed, or what, but I know that it would pass.

When Elliot left my room, I locked my door and went into the bathroom. I turned on the shower, but sat down on the toilet instead of getting in. I rolled up my sleeves, and stared at my cut arms. There was hardly and untouched skin, now. It was disgusting.

"I'm so sorry," I said, looking up at the ceiling. I hope my kids knew that I really was sorry.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the bathtub, with water hitting me from the shower, trying to stop myself from crying. Fresh cuts on my arms stung as water and soap seeped into the wounds.

* * *

Yeah, it's short. It's the last chapter of this story. **I will have a sequel, however.** I just wanted to post this before I went out of town for Thanksgiving. I'll be back in 2 days, though. So expect the first chapter of the sequel on Friday or Saturday, k? 


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